Six Years Difference
by Rachel987
Summary: A retelling of the story imagining Ana and Christian were six years older when they met. Ana is no longer the unsure, meek girl she once was and is now a high-flying journalist after she grew bored with publishing. Christian has gone back to his old ways in private after the bitter failure of his first marriage.
1. One

Deciding which outfit to wear for this interview may just kill me. I've had two I've been flitting between for weeks, and now they day has arrived I know whichever of the two I choose is destined to be the wrong one, a fact I will only realise as soon as I walk out of the door when it's far too late to change it. They're not even that different. Both are black. Both are dresses. I'm sure if Kate were here she would know exactly which one was most appropriate. I miss the days straight out of college when I lived with her. Not just for the fashion advice, but for the company. I love the large, airy penthouse I live in, but I miss the days of staying in the shabby apartment with her, having someone to talk to when I got home every day when I worked in publishing, not journalism.

I had never really thought of myself as a writer, but I started to enjoy it. When the firm I worked for went bust I started applying for jobs in journalism too. I'm lucky English is such a versatile degree to have, or I might not have been so lucky as to be able to switch careers. As it happened I was offered two jobs at the same time, one in publishing and the other working for The Seattle Times. The second was a lot better paid, so I took it and did well. Within a year I had a weekly column where I can be as sarcastic and witty as I like and the occasional headliner where I have to be more serious. My articles have been on the front page no less than four times now, and I have each and every one of them framed and hanging proudly in my office. My new goal, which I decided upon about three days in to the job, is to become editor. Hey, it's good to have goals, no matter how unrealistic.

Unfortunately, recently people have been coming down with the flu which means I've had to take on more work. Which includes human interest pieces. Which I hate.

So today I get to go and interview the coveted CEO of more companies than I can count on one hand, Mr Christian Grey which is sure to be fun. I did hope I might come down with the illness too but no such luck. I usually have interns who do interviews for me, but since the entire piece will just be me typing up the things he says – which I can't imagine anyone wanting to read, as it is sure to be vapid and dull, and surely more interesting things are going on in the world than a rich handsome guy buying out another company, but hey, what do I know? – I have to do it myself. Besides, he refused to speak to anyone who wasn't a 'proper journalist'. I can already tell this guy is going to be an asshole.

Sadly, that doesn't give me an excuse to dress badly.

Closing my eyes I pick the first dress of the hanger that I touch and don't allow myself to think about it as I step in to it and zip it up. I accessorise, as always, with jewellery the same colour as my eyes, and shoes and a purse the same shade of red as my dark lipstick. I briefly look at the photo on my nightstand of me and Kate together, taken by our friend Jose. I cringe at how dismally I used to dress. I might not be the best dresser in the world but I'm definitely beating old Ana to that title. I had to start dressing better for my new job. It wouldn't do to go to a professional workplace looking like I had just grabbed the first clothes from my wardrobe. I slowly added makeup to the ensemble, although apart from the lipstick which I love to wear, it's really not anything noticeable. I realised that as soon as I started dressing confidently the natural confidence came easily to me. The only thing still the way it used to be is my hair. I simply don't have the time to flat iron it or make it any more presentable. I either tie it up or make people deal with how crazy it is. Today I have decided to leave it down.

Late as usual I rush to the elevator and ride it down to the ground floor. I smile at the doorman because it's polite but also because he's new and I don't know his name to say hello to him.

Oddly as I walk to the garage and unlock my car, I find myself missing Wanda, my old VW bug. I haven't owned that car for years, six in fact, I got rid of it when I was twenty two, and yet for some reason I find myself remembering it today. I roll the top of my silver convertible God knows what kind of car down before I head off. It's sunny, and it's not like it's going to ruin my hair.

I manage to beat the traffic and arrive on time, a first for me. Because I can write faster than I can type I opt for a more traditional pad of paper and a pen rather than my fancier iPad and hope that this guy doesn't mention it. I hurry inside and hope that whatever is waiting for me in there is something I'm equipped to deal with.

Once I explain to the receptionist who I am she smiles and tells me which floor to go to.

"Anastasia Steele, here to see Mr Grey." I say to the woman at reception, clearly his secretary. She looks me up and down and gives me a very clearly faked smile as she types something in to her computer and shoos me away, pointing to the waiting area. Feeling suitably patronised I smile back at her and take a seat, taking the opportunity to text Kate.

_Shall we meet for coffee sometime this week? Haven't seen you in ages. –Ana_

Her reply comes a few minutes later as I am still waiting and I smile as I read it.

_Meant to call you last week but Ava's taken to hiding phones. Only found mine this morning. Elliot's still looking for his. I can make myself free whenever you need me to be, so call me whenever you're done with work. I know you have the interview with my brother in law today. Good luck. He's less scary than he seems. –Kate xx_

Kate works in journalism too, and is also a published author. She's most famous for her series of mystery novels which everyone has read. And I mean everyone. She met her husband, Elliot, pretty much straight out of college. They got married about two years down the line and have two beautiful daughters, Ava and Vivienne. I have still never forgiven Kate and Elliot for eloping and not telling anyone. They simply went to Paris and came back married. They always meant to hold a real wedding but they got a little side-tracked after she got pregnant. I love Kate and Elliot's kids but I thank God it was her and not me who me the love of her life as soon as she was done with school. I can't imagine being married, even now. Kate's always saying I need to meet someone soon; I'm only two years away from thirty after all! But I don't know, I'd like to meet a guy, but marriage doesn't seem like my kind of thing anymore. I might have wanted the whole package once upon a time, but kids would interfere with work and I'm not a strong believer that you have to get married. Not like I used to be.

"Miss Steele, you can go through now."

I get up as soon as the woman at the desk speaks, not in the mood to correct her to 'Ms Steele' which I prefer to go by and walk through to the office, willing myself not to fall. I'm not clumsy the way I used to be (Kate called it endearing but I just called it a pain in the ass), but I'm not exactly steady on my feet. I knock on the door, which is opened for me, by him. I only expected an 'enter' or something conveying a similar sense of his own god-complex, which is something I imagine he would have, so we're already off to a good start.

"Good morning, Miss Steele."

He's tall, and even in my heels I feel far too short to be in his presence. His eyes are grey which briefly amuses me for no other reason than it's in his name, and he has the most gorgeous shade of copper hair. He's strikingly handsome. I could imagine no man being better looking than the one now stood in front of me. He is a Greek God. The photos of him I have seen, either Kate's family photos or in magazines, can do his looks no justice. They have to be coupled by his presence for the full effect to be had. There was no way someone like him could be human. I remember Kate mentioned that he got divorced earlier this year, and I pity the poor woman who let this guy go.

I feel like a teenager again, insecure, like I'm not good enough to be around him. I realise I'm probably supposed to be speaking right now.

"Good morning to you too, Mr Grey." I mentally congratulate myself for forming a string of words which made sense. "It's nice to finally meet you, even if it is for work. You brother has mentioned you a lot." He ushers me in to the room and takes me over to a couch in the corner of his office. I'm glad I don't have to sit across a desk from him. That would make me feel even more awkward.

"We've met before, Miss Steele." I frown. I'm sure I would have remembered. "I was at your college graduation."

"I was too busy trying not to trip over my own feet to notice anything else around me, so you'll have to forgive me for not remembering you." He laughs, probably unaccustomed to women forgetting him, and nods.

"Forgiven, Miss Steele. Now, it's been a while since I've done an interview, so I might be a little rusty."

"I'll never be able to tell." I assured him. "I usually have my interns do it. I tend to write things a little less…" I trail off the end of my sentence, unable to think of a word to complete it that will not sound insulting. He smirks.

"The word you're looking for is vapid, Miss Steele."

"I was trying to be nice. God I pity people who have to do this sort of thing every day. These little pieces only intended to fill up the blank spaces. We could save a whole lot of money on ink if we just printed actual news." I can see him trying not to laugh as he struggles to maintain composure. Without further ado I begin asking him the questions my colleague Ian instructed me to ask. He was devastated he didn't get to be the one who wrote this story. He wants to read it when I am done in order to make sure I haven't left anything out. I have to say, the questions are good. I had been expecting more along the vapid lines of 'what's your favourite colour'. These actually might make a good article. For a human interest piece at least. And Mr Grey seems willing to give me answers; although whether or not they're all true is another matter entirely.

I briefly pause and bite my lip when I get to the question about his divorce, wondering whether or not I should be asking it , and he immediately looks at me with slightly narrowed eyes which make me even more nervous that I am already.

"Why have you stopped, Miss Steele? Continue please, I really don't have all day for this."

"I'm sorry." I say immediately. "I just wasn't sure if this was something I should be asking or not. I didn't come up with these questions you see, and I haven't actually read through them properly. Well I thought I had, I just didn't see this one."

"Ask it anyway."

"Are you sure?" I say, certainly not sure myself. He nods decisively. "Why did your wife leave you?"

"I think we'll leave that at no comment." He doesn't sound angry. I expected him to be at least a little bit pissed off. I look down at the list again and am rather relieved to find that was the final question, which I tell him quickly. "Is it my turn to interview you now?"

"I'm not sure that's how it works." I said with a small smile.

"On the contrary, that is exactly how it works with me." I remember being interview once for some magazine doing a piece on upcoming journalists over America. It was awful. I'm not doing that again, there's literally no way in hell I could ever be persuaded to, not even by someone as handsome as Christian Grey. Of course, I was far more awkward back then, but I'm still hardly the most eloquent of people when I'm nervous. And Christian Grey does make me nervous. I hate the idea of displeasing him. Anyone else and I probably would have just gone ahead and asked that question, pestered them for an answer when they didn't give me one, but no. Not him. God, I have no idea how Kate does these kind of interviews day in and day out. They are exhausting.

"As fun as I'm sure this would be, I have to get back to work, as I'm sure you do. You really don't want to waste your time asking me questions. I'm pretty dull."

"I'm sure you're not Miss Steele, but yes. I should let you get back to work."

"Well thank you for your time. If you'd like me to email you over the article before it goes to print so you can check it over I can do." He shakes his head.

"I have every faith that whatever you write will be complementary and very good. I was wondering if you might like a picture to go along with it though." I bet he is. Probably like the idea of thousands of women reading the article and swooning over his likeness. Not me though. For one thing, he wouldn't look the same in a photo to how he looks in real life. A photo doesn't do justice to how handsome he is.

"Of course. I don't have time for an official photo-shoot though, I have to get this to print as soon as possible, but if you'd like to send one, or have someone else send one over then I would be grateful."

"I'll have my secretary get a picture to you as soon as possible."

I nod and get to my feet, completely forgetting I'm in heels, wobbling slightly. He has a gentle hold of my arm, keeping me steady for a moment, and it's only when I'm sure I'm not going to fall that I realise he's actually touching me.

And then I think I might fall over again.

"Perhaps you should invest in a pair of shoes you can stand in." I'd think he was being genuine if he wasn't smirking to himself. I try and look composed and not disappointed as he takes his hand off my arm and I brush a hand back through my hair and pick up my purse, dropping the pen and notebook in there before I put it up on my shoulder. I don't acknowledge or mention the comment he made. He smiles and leads me over to the door. "It was lovely to meet you, Miss Steele." I'm sure he's just saying it to be polite.

"You too, Mr Grey."

I walk out and he immediately calls in the woman from the desk outside, instructing her to find a picture of him to send to me. I smile to myself as I enter the elevator, fishing around my bag for my cell phone, which I only find once I am back on the ground floor. Walking to my car I call Kate.

"Hey!" she says brightly from the other end. I can hear the girls chattering happily in the background, and I smile once again.

"Hey, Kate. I'm free the day after tomorrow for coffee, is that good for you or do you need to find a child-minder?" I'm a hundred percent sure she's shaking her head and slowly realising I can't see her.

"Nope, they're in day-care then so we should be good to go. I can't wait to see you again. So, how did the interview with my charming brother in law go?"

"He's actually not as bad as I thought he would be. I mean, he's kind of imposing and it's hard to say no to him, but he was good with the interview and he was quite nice to me." I can hear Kate on the other end telling one of the girls off, not that I am sure which one. I climb in to my car and just sit in the driver's seat.

"Sorry about that Ana." she says. "No, he uh, he used to be worse. He got a little less like it when he married Sara though. We thought he might revert when she walked out on him, but he seems to have stayed a little less…" I'm not too sure what word she is looking for. I'm not entirely sure there is a word. "Did he seem okay though? He's not really been to visit Elliot recently and he's worried about his little brother."

"Yeah, he seemed pretty good. Even when I mentioned the divorce."

"Ana!" Kate yells, and I hear the girls giggling about how Mummy is cross at Auntie Ana, a nickname which I had not appreciated when Kate first decided to use it and still dislike even now, years later. "Why would you do that? That's a horrible thing to ask about! How tactless are you?"

"They weren't my questions!" I say defensively. "And he basically forced me to ask it." Not quite true, but he had prompted it, albeit before he'd known exactly what the question was.

"Still, Ana. Insensitive much? Look, I'll see you at eleven thirty. I'll pick you up from your office. I have to go now, Viv's found the glue." She cuts me off before I can say goodbye, and I laugh softly before I put my phone back in my purse and drive to the office with the intention of getting the article written so it is over with and I don't have it hanging over my head for days in favour of more interesting things I could be focussing my time on.

I leave my laptop at work all the time because I always forget to put it in my car in the mornings when I take it home. I have another one at home of course, but that just has personal stuff on it. This one is much more important. I check and see I have an email.

To: Anastasia Steele

From: Christian Grey

Miss Steele, please find attached the picture you wanted for your article. I hope it seems suitable to you and that the article itself doesn't prove too vapid for you to bear writing.

Christian Grey

I don't open the picture. I know it will just distract me. Instead I just start writing.


	2. Two

As hard as I might try to be independent nowadays, I do miss my best friend. Kate is such a good shoulder to cry on and sympathetic ear. Of course now she has the girls it's very different; she has them to take care of, not just me. Still, whenever we do meet up it's like jumping straight back in time. Talking to her is like being straight out of college again. No matter how much time apart we spend we just go back to how we were when we first met, even after I didn't see her when I lived in London for a year and a half doing foreign correspondence for the paper. In my life she is probably the only real constant since my step-father moved all the way to Florida with his new wife six years ago.

We're in a small café near to where I work. We've finished our coffee and we're just about done catching up, which is pretty much just synonymous for Kate pestering me about why I'm not in a relationship yet and when she'll get to be my bridesmaid. I have told her that since I didn't get to be hers even if I do get married she won't be mine. This always earns a signature Kate pout, which she keeps up until I say fine, she can.

"Please Ana!" Kate's pestering me to take the rest of the day off and come out to their perfect little house in the suburbs to see Elliot and the kids and have dinner with them. I have to admit I'm tempted; the Christian Grey article is finished and I haven't been assigned anything new to work on yet.

"Okay fine!" I say finally, defeated, as Kate smiles gleefully. "It'll do me good to get out of the city for a few hours anyway."

"Exactly! It means I can spend more time with you and we can show you the extension that Elliot built… I know it's October but it's warm today, we can eat in the garden if you like, you need the fresh, non-polluted air… Oh, and the girls will love seeing their Auntie Ana again!" As always, Kate is talking at a million miles a minute and I struggle to keep up with whichever train of thought she is heading down. I have to admit, the afternoon with her and her family does sound nice.

"It sounds lovely. Or it would if you stopped calling me Auntie Ana. I still hate it. It makes me sound like a childless spinster."

"And I still don't care. For the record you are a childless spinster." I gasp in mock horror and flick one of the crumbs from the chocolate cake we split at her, hitting her right on the nose, for once my aim surprisingly accurate.

"Twenty eight is not old enough to be a spinster, Kate."

"No, but you are falling dangerously behind. We're already on baby number three and you don't even have a steady boyfriend yet. You have some serious catching up to do, Steele."

"Hold on!" I say, holding my hand up at her. "What the hell was that about baby number three? We can discuss my forever alone-ness later." Kate grinned and looked down at the table. If it was someone else I was talking to I might have said she was shy. However, it was her, and she probably just felt guilty for letting private information slip. She was good at keeping secrets unless they were her own. She liked sharing them too much.

"I'm four months pregnant now. I was going to surprise you over dinner. Luckily it's at the stage where I can hide it with baggy clothes, but yeah. We found out a couple of days ago that it's another girl. We were both pleased. We're good at girls. Neither of us knows how to handle a little boy."

"Kate, congratulations!" I gush, hugging her awkwardly over the table.

"But we haven't told anyone else yet, so please keep it quiet. Actually, Elliot's in the city today too telling his brother." I try very hard not to care that she mentioned Christian. I literally met him for half an hour. There has been no reason for him to be stuck in my head since we met, yet he has been. He probably didn't even remember what my name was, although he did personally send me the email with the photo. Which I may have spent half an hour staring at wistfully yesterday. He's really hot and it's been way too long since my last relationship. I might start dating again if my last three relationships hadn't ended because I worked too much. I've only taken on more responsibility since then, so I'd be able to spend even less time on love now. Perhaps staying single is for the best.

"Of course. I won't say anything to anyone."

Kate beams at me again, and now I know I see the little glow she has. I'm not sure if it's the pregnancy or just the fact she's happy.

The only thing I dislike about seeing Kate is that her presence always makes me question my own happiness. There's no debate as to whether she herself is happy or not. Clearly she is. Kate is successful, both at work and with her family. The thing is, in both, Kate has managed to be more successful than I am. Everyone knows the name Kate Kavanagh, which she kept for writing her books, even though legally she's Kate Grey now. I'm not a household name unless you read my column, and I have no personal relationships or children to be proud of. I'm usually at least content with my life, but Kate has a way of at least making me second guess whether or not that is actually true. I'm pretty sure I don't want kids, but at the very least one romance which doesn't fail within the first two months would be nice.

I ring work and check there's nothing I need to do for the afternoon before I take off. Luckily, people have started getting better and most are back at work now so it's fine for me not to come in, although I'm sure all that means is that there will be a thousand things on my desk tomorrow morning.

I make Kate take me home so I can change out of my shirt and pencil skirt and into a pair of jeans and an old red t-shirt. I feel I can dress casually around Kate because no matter what I wear it's nowhere near as bad as it used to be, but also because her kids are bound to destroy whatever I'm wearing so I need something more replaceable than the nicer clothes that I wear around the city and to work.

It's at least half past two before we head off, and for the lift of me I can't work out where the time had gone. I must have been sat chatting to her for longer than I realised. We did burn through a lot of topics at the café, we must have been there a while. We listen to Kate's favoured crappy pop music in the car, today's choice being 5 Seconds to Summer. Kate confesses cheerily that she likes when the kids aren't in the car because it means she doesn't have to listen to the soundtrack to whatever the latest Disney film is. In my apparent old age as Kate calls it, I've developed a strong taste for rock music, although during the forty five minute car ride to her house she has me singing along to her completely terrible music and actually enjoying it. Great. Now I'm going to have these damn songs stuck in my head for the rest of the week.

We pick her kids up from day-care before we go to her home. Ava is four and looks exactly like her mother, down to the strawberry blonde curls and the green eyes. Vivienne is two and looks a lot more like a mix of Kate and Elliot, still just as beautiful. She has her mother's green eyes and her father's blonde hair. I can tell both of them are going to be gorgeous when they grow up. I smile when I see how Kate looks at them, the unconditional love that only a parent can have for their child. It is for the briefest of moments that I am envious of her and the picture perfect life she has. Kate quite literally has the white picket fence house (although it's bigger than the conventional WPF house, obviously) and two-point-five children. For the second time today I am second guessing my own happiness. Dammit Kate.

Kate goes in to the kitchen to start dinner and I am left to look after the kids in the front room, sitting cross-legged. Ava is far too intelligent for her age and keeps asking me questions about everything she possibly can, which Vivienne just sits smiling, babbling the occasional word at us both. Whenever she does Ava sighs 'That doesn't make sense Viv' which always makes me smile. I make a promise to myself to come out and visit Kate and the kids more, especially now she's having another one. I only remember why I don't every time they call me Auntie Ana. I can't believe that stuck. Anything, literally anything, would be preferable to that. It's not even cute, it's just a pain in the ass.

"Katie, you'll never guess who I brought with me!"

It's Elliot, and I smile as I watch through the open door as Kate rushes to the front door to greet her husband. The kids are both shouting for their Daddy who kisses Kate and comes in.

"Hey Ana!" Elliot says brightly, and I get up and kiss him on the cheek. "I had no idea you'd be here." I immediately sit back down with the children.

"Yeah, Kate insisted I come to dinner, and I needed a break from the city."

"Elliot, where should I put these?" I pray that the voice doesn't belong to who I think it does, but of course, fate would never be so kind. Christian Grey is standing in the doorway to the room, speaking to his brother but staring straight at me. Elliot gets up and takes the beer he was holding in to the kitchen. I smile at him and will myself to be composed, as I did the day before yesterday. "Miss Steele, I didn't expect to see you again so soon."

"Please, we're not working together anymore, feel free to call me Ana." I say, smiling. He doesn't offer me the same courtesy, which seems rude but doesn't bother me too much. The girls are already clamouring for his attention and I smile as the cold exterior seems to melt away as he sees them and say hello. He picks Ava up first, saying nothing more to me. I feel like, since they're his family, I should leave. I get to my feet and wobble slightly and see him smirk. "What have I done?" I ask, immediately defensive. He shakes his head.

"It's just amusing that you're as unsteady in flats as you are in heels." Okay, perhaps I haven't changed as much on the clumsiness front as I would have liked to. "At least wait until I'm not holding a small child before you get up next time in case you need help again."

"Careful what you say there Mr Grey, I have a camera on my phone and I am not above taking a picture of you with said small child and replacing the nicely lit one you sent me for my article with it to show the world you have a caring side." I say warningly. He looks genuinely distraught by this and I laugh before I leave the room to go through to the kitchen.

"Kate, do you need any help?" I ask her, hoping for a yes so I don't have to go back and be alone (well, alone apart from the kids) with Christian. She nods.

"Yes, because Elliot is _useless_ and as if Christian would offer to do anything which involved him getting his hands dirty." It was said fondly. I knew Kate and Christian hadn't got along particularly well at first; I remembered evenings where I would relay the latest disaster date I had been on to her and she would tell me the latest thing he had done which annoyed her. But, since she had the girls, Christian has been a lot nicer to her and I think she actually likes her brother in law now. Ava and Vivienne certainly seem to love him, and he them from the way he acts around them. I wonder why he never had children with his ex-wife. Maybe he's like me and only likes other people's.

For all the wonderful things about her, Kate is a terrible cook. I have to keep secretly changing things so that dinner will not be inedible, although I remember fondly how it was so terrible last time we ordered pizza, and the four of us, because Ava had insisted on coming outside with us because she couldn't sleep, sat in the garden on the grass just after Vivienne was born, drinking wine and laughing, though obviously Ava didn't partake in this. I have as many happy memories of time spent with Kate in this house as I do memories of her and me in our old flat before she went suburban on me.

Elliot goes into the sitting room and I hear him and Christian chatting about Christian's latest business venture. I don't bother listening, because it's what I was interviewing him about, and he's literally giving Elliot the exact same answers as he gave me. He keeps looking at me through the archway which joins the two rooms. I resist the urge to pull a face every time he does. Way to try and make yourself look even more stupid, Ana.

"Ana, he just got divorced."

"Excuse me?" I say to Kate. I realise now that I've been staring at him for longer than is socially acceptable.

"Ana, I have seen that look so many times over the years when you've been staring at guys you can't have. Christian is off limits, and I know that's just going to make you want him more, but you should know better than to get involved with guys just coming out of long relationships. It never goes well. You want someone you can marry, not someone who's been married and probably wants to stay as far away from that stuff as he can get for the next few years. You're not thinking clearly."

I could just agree with her, but of course, I get defensive, which probably just adds to her perception that I like him.

"Kate, I don't like him. And even if I did, that would be my business, not yours because, and this may come as a shock to you, they are my relationships, not yours. Maybe I don't want a guy to settle down with. Have you ever thought that maybe some people don't want the whole husband with a nice house and kids thing? That maybe I could be happy on my own with my job, and none of that stuff people are supposed to want?"

She gets very quiet and doesn't speak again until she calls the others for dinner. I sit down, but as she puts my plate in front of me she whispers a very hushed 'sorry' and smiles weakly. I mouth 'me too' as she sits across from me, smiling softly. Christian and Elliot bring the kids in, and of course I'm left sitting beside Christian when Elliot elects to sit next to his wife rather than me. I figure it's better than having him sit across from me. At least this way I don't have an excuse to sit staring at him and forget to eat and look even more of an idiot. He spends the entire dinner talking to his brother anyway. The only time he even speaks to me is when our hands accidentally touch reaching for the salad. He apologises. It's a truly beautiful moment which clearly we will tell our children about. Okay, I know I'm being ridiculous and overly sarcastic, but Kate has annoyed me. Just because I find the guy a little (okay, extremely) attractive does not mean I am silently picking out colour schemes for our wedding. Contrary to what Kate clearly believes, I do not fall in love with every guy I meet and subsequently find the remotest bit attractive.

The rest of the evening plays out normally. The kids ask for me to put them to bed and I feel proud that I am this evening's chosen one, even though it's probably just because I am the new shiny toy for them. I really do want to start seeing them more. It's not like I have brothers or sisters so they are probably the closest to nieces I will get.

Vivienne goes to sleep quickly after me and Ava put her in her crib, but Ava clamours for me to read her a story, so I sit on the end of her bed waiting for her to pick a book. She hands it to me and climbs under the covers, smiling, laughing and adding her input to the story which makes me smile. As she gets tired the chatter draws to a stop and I start brushing my fingers through her long soft strawberry blonde hair as those knowing green eyes close and she falls back on the pillow. I know she'll wake up if I stop talking now, so I finish the last quarter of the book and make sure she is properly asleep before I get up and kiss her forehead and creep out of the room, leaving her nightlight on but shutting her door. I turn to go downstairs and try not to shriek as I am met by a tall figure in the dark hallway, and quickly flick on the light and realise it's Christian, not a murderer. Well, hopefully he's not a murderer. Really I haven't had adequate time with him to be able to judge that. I'm like sixty percent sure he's not though, and that's good enough.

"I didn't mean to scare you." Christian says, as I try and return my breathing to normal. "It was just that Kate told me you didn't bring your car and I thought I'd better offer you a ride back to the city, in the interest of politeness."

I want to say no. I very badly want to say no. I have done very well acting normally, or at least what constitutes normal for me, around Christian so far. However forty five minutes alone with him with no prepared questions is destined to be my downfall at this feat. There is literally no way it can possibly go well. It will be ridiculously awkward and I am bound, in the silence we are certainly going to fall in to, to say something foolish. Unfortunately though, there is literally no way for me to be able to say no to the offer without looking even stupider. And since he offered Kate will probably refuse to take me back anyway.

"I'd love a ride back." I find myself saying. I'm thankful, not for the first time in my life, that the words escaping my mouth are less insane than the millions of thoughts whizzing around my head.

"Excellent. If you wouldn't mind I'd like to leave now. I'll give you time to say goodbye and meet you in the car." He turns and goes downstairs. I try very hard not to stare at his ass. I fail.


	3. Three

After I say goodbye to Kate and Elliot who both make me promise to visit more often, I am once again struck by the fact I have to share a car with Christian. I'm praying that traffic will be good so we're not stuck together any longer than necessary. Maybe if he'd said more than a brief hello to me all evening I would feel better about it, but of course he didn't. It's not like we're working together anymore, and I'm not family. I've pretty much figured out that means he doesn't even have the time of day for me.

I get in to the passenger seat of whatever kind of car it is he has. Inevitably, it's at least five times more expensive than mine was, and that was not cheap. I'm probably supposed to be impressed by it, and I would be if I knew anything at all about cars. The most I know about them is that they're shiny.

Christian says nothing to me, just looks at me for a long time before I realise I don't have my seatbelt on yet so I buckle it. As soon as I do he just starts driving. No attempt at conversation, no music. Just silence. The most awkward silence imaginable.

I play with my sleeves and pick imaginary loose threads off my shirt. I know I'm biting my lip like I always do when I'm either nervous or awkward, and once I stop fiddling with my top I move on to playing with my hair. I can never seem to stop moving when I'm bored and awkward. And this really is the most awkward I have felt in a long time, so that's great. He probably thinks I'm insane.

"No music?" I say before I can stop myself. The sound of my voice grates the silence.

"I don't really listen to much. Unless you'd like me to put some on, of course." I shake my head quickly. Us talking feels even more awkward than the silence.

I hear my phone buzz and realise I have a text, but I'm worried it will look rude if I check it even though we're not speaking. After about ten minutes of worrying, I check anyway. I see immediately that I have a message from my friend Erin and am caught somewhere between being pleased and being exhausted. Erin, once upon a time, was my intern. Then a video of her singing went viral on YouTube and she moved to LA to chase her dream of being a singer. Erin was good but her career only really blew up when she married a famous actress down there. Like Kate she's pretty much a household name now. She comes back to Seattle every so often to get away from the craziness down there and see her parents. And me. She always insists we meet up. I love Erin because even though she's not married she's not part of a traditional family like Kate is which means she's not always nagging me to get married, move to the suburbs, and start popping out babies so her kids have someone to play with. Erin and Gemma live in a very large one-bedroom house. They do not like, nor do they want, children. She does try and set me up with actors a lot though.

Kate and Erin do not like each other. This stems from the fact that Erin and her wife stayed in London with me for a lot of what Kate calls the 'Lost Year' even though it was really a year and a half that I was living over there. She resents that fact that Erin got to see me then and she didn't. To me it seems like a pointless rivalry, but to Kate it is apparently very important. I think Erin annoys her. To be honest, Erin annoys me too, but in an endearing sort of way. Besides, I am probably even more of a pain in the ass than she is so I really can't hold that kind of thing against the poor girl.

_Hey Ana! I'm back in town next week if you want to meet and catch up. Miss you! E xxxxx_

I reply immediately.

_Hi Erin! Yeah, I can make myself free next week, stop by the office any day for lunch and we can catch up then. See you soon! Ana._

I put my phone back in my bag and a brief glace Christian's way tells me that he doesn't care I was using it, or is at least choosing to ignore it. I'm pretty sure we've only been in the car about fifteen minutes, but it feels like at least fifteen hours.

"So, Miss Steele, I read your column yesterday." My eyes widen in surprise, and I swear if he hadn't used my name I would have done something stupid like asking if he was talking to me despite being the only other person in the car. I notice he still hasn't started calling me Ana. I suppose that means I have to keep calling him Mr Grey. Wow. Way to make this even more awkward than it needs to be.

"You did?" He nods. "What did you think of it?" Brace yourself for whatever criticism he throws at you Steele, you did kind of ask for that one. It's probably nothing that you haven't heard before.

"Honestly I thought it was very good." I smile and try not to look too pleased with myself. I'm the kind of person who love to get praise for her work even if she doesn't agree with it, but praise from Christian Grey seems rather more exclusive than most other people. I'm sure if he'd hated it he would have had no problem telling me exactly how awful it was and pointing out each and every single thing which made it so terrible. "Witty, sarcastic, and a genuinely interesting take on the events you were writing about."

"Was it the most recent one?" He nods. I have to admit it really is quite a good one, in my eyes at least. There is a lot of scandal at the moment about sexual abuse in workplaces around Seattle, one of the main perpetrators, it had turns out, is Jack Hyde, my ex-boss from when I worked in publishing who, after his first firm had gone bust, had managed to make another more successful one. My current boss Theresa has asked me to do a series of articles relating to it, and so far I have done one commenting on the story, and the most recent one, a more general look at sexism in the workplace. I remember that I had actually commented on GEH in the article as they had one of the best records in Seattle for equal employment. While Christian owned the company there were apparently a lot of women high up in the company, all of whom were being paid the same amount as men in the positions were. Next week I was set not only to write my column, but perhaps even to get another front page article, as I was going to be sitting in on Jack Hyde's trial. I feel quite proud that my boss has asked for me specifically to be the one who wrote it.

"Actually I looked for some of your other ones as well."

"You liked them too?" He nods again, and once again I feel proud. It just feels good to have someone as accomplished and successful as him telling me that I am good at what I do. "So did you think I was worthy of being the one who wrote the article about you?" He pauses and for a moment I wonder if he might say no.

"Of course you are. I understand after reading your pieces why you had such reservations about doing it though. The things you write seem a lot more serious. Actual news rather than something boring like that, although I'm sure you took it in your stride and the article is excellent. If you don't mind I actually would like to read it." I assume he means not just when it goes to print, and I nod.

"Yes, of course. I'll email it to you in the morning. And honestly, the article I had to write wasn't as bad as I thought it would be. It could have been so much worse than just an interview with someone interesting anyway, you could have been the latest tween Vampire movie and I could have been forced to write a review which didn't make it sound like I wanted to tear my eyes out as soon as I went in to the movie theatre." I had been forced to cover for another colleague last week and that was what I'd had to do. Needless to say I was even less happy about that than I was giving Christian his interview.

"I'm glad I was more bearable than you thought I would be." It isn't said maliciously. I've noticed that a lot of the time when he speaks to me there is a hint of amusement to his voice that sounds slightly out of place there, like it's reserved only for certain people. I grin and shake my head.

"Not once did I say that you were the unbearable thing. I just hate articles like that."

He gives me a look, as if he knew exactly what I was thinking yesterday before I walked in to his office about how awful I was sure he was going to be. He might not have been all the friendly but he's certainly a nicer person than I thought he was going to be. Kate said that over the years he had become better at separating business and his personal life, so he didn't act like everyone he met was in his employment. Kate had said that was why she had started to find him a little easier to be around. I think perhaps, if I had met Christian back when Kate did six years ago when Elliot introduced her to his family, I would have hated him unconditionally. I don't like people talking down to me, and she said that it was something he always did to her. Either it was just something reserved for Kate which he had dropped over the years, or it was something about his personality which had dulled with age. Maybe him being married had turned him softer. There are certainly things about Kate I have noticed changing over the years, so perhaps that's the typical thing that happens. Maybe it's just being in love that does it. Having never been either married or in love, I really wouldn't profess myself to be an expert on anything like this.

I hear my phone ringing and look at him before I take it out of my bag.

"Do you mind if I get that? I think it's probably my friend Erin and she'll just keep ringing if I don't pick it up." I only ask in the interest of politeness, which I remember with something akin to amusement as being the reason he go lumbered with driving me home anyway.

"No, feel free." I take the phone out of my bag and answer before I have time to look at the screen and see who exactly it is.

"Hey Ana!" I was right, it is Erin. She can never just leave an event up in the air to happen whenever she feels like it. She needs to have a set plan for a set day at a set time, and I'm terrible at planning anything. "I just wanted to check when exactly you wanted me to come for lunch. I arrive late on Sunday." I think for a moment before I answer her. Mid-week would probably be best so she has time to visit everyone else first but I already know I have meetings on Wednesday and Thursday which are bound to overrun if I make any plans, so I settle for a little earlier.

"I'm free on Tuesday so long as that's not too early for you."

"No I can't wait to see you! The extended family can wait, this is more important! Gemma's coming with me, so you two will get to see each other again!" I smile to myself. I like Gemma. She's the complete opposite of Erin, very quiet and down to earth, especially for an actress. Most of the ones I have met, usually through the two of them, have been a lot more like Erin, bubbly and excitable. Besides, Gemma is my age as opposed to being four years younger, and it feels nice to be around someone my own age as well as someone younger. I always end up acting like I'm still Erin's age whenever I'm with her, which usually means I wear a far too revealing outfit, drink too much, and end up doing a duet of some pop song with her. I would make Kate come with us but she'd just spend the whole night making sarcastic remarks about Erin and talking about her kids. I love Ava and Vivienne but sometimes I need a night out with childless adults so we can talk about other things than the latest rainbow a four year old decided to paint that Kate wants to get framed or turned in to a Christmas car or whatever.

"Great, tell Gemma I can't wait to see her again. You too of course."

"Me neither! What time do you want us to come and get you at?" I sigh. I hate making plans in stone. It means I can't just up and leave. "Does half past one sound okay to you?"

"Sounds great, I'm looking forward to seeing you again!" Every sentence Erin says is upbeat and happy, punctuated by an invisible exclamation mark. Well, either that or it's her asking you something. There is no medium.

"Okay I better go, it's rude to stay on the phone this long." It's taken me this long to remember that I'm not actually alone. Christian looks over realising that he's being mentioned and I smile at him.

"Who are you with? Is it Kate?" I think sometimes Erin hates Kate as much as Kate hates Erin.

"No, her brother in law. I was having dinner with her and her family and he offered me a ride back to the city."

"Is he cute?" she asks excitedly. I don't think Christian can hear her side of the conversation, because I'm sure if he could he'd be smirking and listening closely, wondering what I was going to say, thinking of some annoyingly sarcastic remark to say to one of three options I had 'yes' 'no' or 'I haven't noticed'.

"Yes." I say it quietly and I can tell she's smiling on the other end of the phone.

"Well then I won't keep you." Without sounding like an idiot there is literally no way I can correct her over the phone in front of him, so I simply make a mental note to clear it up with her when I meet her next week.

"Bye Erin." I say, a little tiredly as I put the phone down, on the dash of the car in case she rings again to say something she forgot to mention. Nine times out of ten this is what happens, and there's no point in putting it away if I'm just going to have to get it out again. Christian's eyes flick briefly from the road in front of us to me, meeting mine for just a moment. I'm reminded again of what a beautiful colour they are and I look away quickly, worried he might think it's odd that I'm staring, even though he's pretty much doing exactly the same to me.

"Is she a friend of yours?"

"Yeah, she lives far away and she's coming in to town next week." I know he's not interested, but I feel like I have to give a little more information than just saying yes. I wonder why I'm thinking so much about what I'm saying to him. Probably because I don't have a good track record of being able to keep my mouth shut around hot guys, and I really have never met a guy better looking than Christian Grey.

We're only in the car a few more minutes before he drives in to the city, back in to the more familiar landscape that I much prefer to where Kate lives. I'd hate to be so far away from all the business and people. I can't imagine even if I do get married and have children that I would want to start living out there. From where we drive in to the city it's only five minutes to my apartment, and the silence, although still slightly uncomfortable, is decidedly less awkward than before.

"Did Kate tell you where I live?" I ask, surprised he knew where to go. I know he definitely didn't ask me.

"Yes, she did." I want to ask him if it was her idea that we come back together. On the one hand it doesn't seem like something Kate would encourage, especially now that she thinks I like him, but on the other, I'm not sure Christian is the kind of person who would offer of his own free will. Actually Elliot seems like the most feasible option of who suggested this.

"Well thank you for the ride." I'd say 'see you around' or something similar, but I don't think he and I really run in the same circles. There's not much chance of him and I running in to each other at Kate's; we've managed six years without doing it, it'll probably be another six years until we do again. The fact that we've met twice in a handful of days is just an odd coincidence.

"That's quite alright. Have a pleasant evening."

"Yeah, you too." Before I can say anything else and make myself look stupid I get out of the car and walk up to my building. I'm halfway up the marble stairs when I hear 'Anastasia' being called in that gorgeously low, silky voice he has and I turn around, managing to slip on the steps, only for him to catch me around me waist. He's three steps down from me, and we're only the same height.

"You left your phone on my dashboard." He hands it to me but doesn't take the one hand from my waist. I feel strangely at ease with him like this. I manage to put my phone in my purse without moving too much so we're still stood like that. The thought that it would be very easy like this to lean in and kiss him crosses my mind, and before I speak and blurt that out instead of what I intend to say, I push it out of my mind. I'm not even sure why it's there. I tell myself to get over it. Yes, he's attractive. There will be other attractive men to follow.

"I think I need you around all the time. You've saved me from several potentially quite painful accidents over the last couple of days."

"Both of which, if I wasn't around probably wouldn't have happened." It's a fair comment but I'm not going to say that. I just smile a little awkwardly, and if suddenly remembering it's there he takes his hand off my waist, as though it's burning him to keep it there. I'm trying very hard not to look disappointed that he has. He says goodbye again and goes back to his car, and I'm inside my building before he drives away.

I spend the evening in equal parts trying not to think about Christian Grey and wishing he had kissed me. Neither does me much good.


	4. Four

When I get to work on Friday morning, the day after dinner at Kate and Elliot's, the first thing I do is email Christian. Were it anyone else I probably would have forgotten, but I've been thinking about him since I last saw him, so it hasn't slipped my mind. There's one plus to having been thinking about him for such a long time.

To: Christian Grey

From: Anastasia Steele

Mr Grey,

Please find attached the article I wrote on you. Hope you find it okay.

Ana

He doesn't reply to the email until Monday, and honestly, I don't think I'm going to get a reply at all until one arrives.

To: Anastasia Steele

From: Christian Grey

Miss Steele,

Apologies it took me a few days to get back to you. I was called to New York on business. The article was wonderful. I was wondering, hopefully without sounding too narcissistic, when it was set to be published?

Christian Grey

To: Christian Grey

From: Anastasia Steele

Mr Grey,

Not at all narcissistic. Well, perhaps a little. I'm sure you wanting to see a glowing article about yourself in print next to a large picture of yourself isn't the only reason you're asking. It's set to be printed in Friday's issue of the paper so you only have four days until you can see it. I'm sure the wait will be unbearable, but you'll struggle on somehow.

Ana

To: Anastasia Steele

From: Christian Grey

Miss Steele,

It is impressive how well you convey sarcasm. Most people find it so difficult in emails. In the interest of not seeming completely narcissistic to you, I have to tell you that it is my mother, not me who wants to read it, although I will admit it's also always good to have people talking about how wonderful I am so I want to know when I can expect the showers of praise from everyone I meet. Well, even more so than usual.

Christian Grey

To: Christian Grey

From: Anastasia Steele

Mr Grey,

I retract my statement from my previous email. You are completely narcissistic.

Ana

I know as soon as I've pressed send that I've taken the sarcasm and joking too far and I spend about the next five minutes sat at my desk with my head in my hands groaning, extremely annoyed with myself for getting carried away and forgetting who I was talking to. I don't expect to get a reply from him, but I do, and like every other email he's sent me, it makes me smile. I like to think mine are having a similar effect on him.

To: Anastasia Steele

From: Christian Grey

Miss Steele,

Are you this insulting to everyone you meet? Or is it simply reserved for important people?

Christian Grey

To: Christian Grey

From: Anastasia Steele

See? You are narcissistic. Yeah, I insult all the important people I meet. I'm a really defy the patriarchy type of girl. No, I just reserve being insulting for people I like. You should feel honoured instead of complaining about it.

Ana

To: Anastasia Steele

From: Christian Grey

Oh I do. But I'm still going to complain until you start being nice.

Christian

Upon reading that email after I get back from lunch on Monday, humming the song I had on repeat and was listening to on the run I opted to go on instead of going out to lunch with someone from the office, I smile even more than before. I see it as a significant improvement that he's left his surname off the email, although I do have to wonder if it was deliberate or if he just sent it by accident.

To: Christian Grey

From: Anastasia Steele

I look forward to that next time I see you in person. I can only assume it will be exhausting for me to be around you complaining all the time. Just when I thought you couldn't be any worse. I had to ask though, was the surname left off deliberately? If so then I feel very honoured indeed, and if not, don't you think it's about time it was?

Ana

To: Anastasia Steele

From: Christian Grey

It was quite deliberate, Anastasia. And I thought after our first meeting you didn't find me unbearable?

Christian

To: Christian Grey

From: Anastasia Steele

I do believe we discussed this in what the history books will refer to as the most awkward car journey ever. Even if we didn't what I meant was that you were less unbearable than I thought you would be, but of course, still unbearable.

Ana

To: Anastasia Steele

From: Christian Grey

I think we made the most of an inevitably awkward situation with that car journey. It could have been much worse, much like me apparently. Of course then I wasn't aware just how much sarcasm you would be willing to put up with which is why I didn't say as much to you as I might have liked, although over the course of the twelve emails (including this one) that we have sent to each other, the amount has become more clear to me, and I assure you next time we meet in person will be easier.

Christian

To: Christian Grey

From: Anastasia Steele

We probably won't have to worry too much about that. We hardly run in the same circles?

Ana

To: Anastasia Steele

From: Christian Grey

On the contrary, I saw your name on a list of people going to a charity gala I will be attending at the weekend. Unless you're planning on not going of course, in which case I might not bother either.

Christian

To: Christian Grey

From: Anastasia Steele

I'm flattered that if I wasn't going you wouldn't either. I didn't think you made a habit of attending these kinds of things anyway. Don't you usually just donate a few thousand dollars to them and get to stay at home with Chinese takeout, a pint of ice cream and the Notebook? (I am assuming here that your evenings are pretty much the same as mine but with more expensive ice cream)

Ana

To: Anastasia Steele

From: Christian Grey

Of course that is exactly what I do during the evenings. As much as I would rather be doing that, it's not exactly great for a person's image when their wife leave them for no reason. I now have to attend things and look happy and donate ridiculous amounts of money to the chosen causes too. It seems unfair to me.

To: Christian Grey

From: Anastasia Steele

Yeah, I would imagine that doesn't help your appearance much. I am glad I won't have to be by myself there though. You've had personal experience of how awkward I am around people I don't know.

Ana

To: Anastasia Steele

From: Christian Grey

And there was me thinking the awkwardness was reserved only for me. I feel a little disappointed now. Don't worry, I'll keep you from making an idiot of yourself. Unless it will be amusing if you do, in which case I'll just let you go ahead. I'm going home now, so have a good lunch with your friend tomorrow. See you Saturday evening.

Christian

In between the emails I have managed to get a fair bit of work done today, so after an hour or so more I decide to call it a day and just head home. After I make myself dinner and clean up my apartment a little I read through the emails from the day again, and wonder if maybe Christian went home and did exactly the same thing. I had no intention of sending so much to him as I did, but I'm not sorry about it. I think I might actually be becoming friends with Christian Grey, which is something I never saw happening in a million years. I mean, I just expected to be awkward around him forever if we ever met again, and really I never expected that to happen anyway. Thank god for communication which doesn't involve being face to face with a person or I might never have pulled through on this one. I feel proud that I got him to talk to me all day and that he didn't seem at any point to be getting bored of me and my strange rambling.

I decide to sit and read for the rest of the evening, so I settle down on my comfy couch and only look up from my book when I receive a text message. I pick up the phone which is lying next to me. I was genuinely surprised to see it was Christian, although I had known he had my number as I had given it to him when we were arranging dates for his interview.

_Sat with my ice cream ready to enjoy the evening and every other one up until I have to go to the boring gala. –CG_

_I have no ice cream but I do have Emma. –Ana_

_Who's Emma? –CG_

I laughed out loud and shook my head not caring that I was only shaking it at a screen and a message, hoping somehow that my exasperation might bleed through cyberspace and that he could feel it all the way across the city. Or not. I wasn't entirely sure where he lived compared to me.

_Emma, as in the book by Jane Austen. –Ana_

_I'm trying to think of a way I could have come out sounding more stupid and I'm drawing a blank. I probably should have realised that, right? –CG_

_Probably, but I forgive you. Most people would make the same mistake. –Ana_

_I try not to make a point of doing what most people do. Clearly it makes me come out looking completely idiotic when I do, so perhaps I should stick to acting like I'm above them like I usually do. –CG_

_Maybe. And there was me the one who was worried about looking stupid in front of you. Guess it should have been you who was worrying. –Ana_

_Perhaps it should have been. I really just texted to say goodnight to you. Thought it would be polite given that we've talked all day. –CG_

_Much appreciated. Have a nice night, Christian. –Ana_

It was the first time I had directly used his first name, and I decide I like it. I like being informal with him. I like the fact he isn't up himself like I had initially thought he would be and that he can clearly take a joke. I decide I also like that he took time out of his probably ridiculously busy schedule to send and read emails to and from me today, and that he struck up a conversation with me this evening just to say goodnight to me. I really like that now we aren't working together he's acting like a normal person who I can actually talk to without feeing even more awkward than I usually do.

Oh fuck.

After swearing, to both Kate and myself that I won't, I realise I'm starting to really like this guy. Like a lot. Far too much in fact. Oh fuck. I really need to stop. Which I will. As soon as I figure out just how to do that.

I'm thankful that my dreams are never relevant to real life. Where some women in my position might have dreamed of Christian, I dreamt instead of an odd library where the books all turned to food after you were done reading them. I don't have nightmares much anymore, but as dreams go this was a pretty good one, and I swear the next morning I wake up and I can taste apple pie in my mouth. It has put me in a very good mood for the rest of the day, and I'm humming a made up tune while I eat breakfast and get ready.

The morning passes without anything eventful happening. I'm a little disappointed that I don't have any messages from Christian, but I guess it's for the best. The less contact I have with him the easier it will be for me to put the stupid little crush I have developed for whatever reason out of my mind. Besides, it's not like I expected him to send me anything. He's got companies to run, and they probably take precedence over emailing the random girl he's met twice and spoken to a few times and who spend the whole of yesterday evening smiling every time she thought about him and developing more and more of a crush on him, not that he himself knows that last part of course. I think I might be keeping that to myself for a long while. Forever most likely.

That doesn't really go to plan, as I find out just an hour later when Erin bursts through the door to my office grinning and waving at everyone. Some of them know her because she used to work here, others because she's in magazines at least every week.

Erin had short bleached blonde hair, cut to about her chin, and beautiful hazel eyes. She's tiny, like me, but she wears much higher heels and somehow manages to look leggy. Gemma, who is following her, has red hair and blue eyes, much closer to grey than my own. Erin, as she bursts in, takes one look at me and asks who the guy is. I play defensive for about a minute and a half, but when Gemma joins in teasing me I cave, and promise to tell them both over lunch. They both look like gleeful twelve year olds about to be told the latest school gossip about who kissed who while they were waiting for the bus the day before.

They waste no time once we get in to the restaurant, and it takes about half a minute before I finally cave and tell them everything. I even had them my phone so they can look through the emails and texts he sent me. They keep exchanging looks and I have no idea what they mean, but they make me nervous.

"You ever think maybe he likes you too Ana?" Erin asked me, and I shook my head immediately.

"Of course not. I'm me. Why would he?" They both sigh, and simply go back to reading the emails.


	5. Five

Erin, and by extent her wife who I am displeased with purely because I thought she would be on my side, has insisted that I come out with them that evening. I have been instructed to 'dress slutty – you never know, might meet a guy who makes you forget all about Christian Grey'. I returned to work after lunch and apparently she's picking me up from my apartment at eight. Getting ready never takes me too long, so even though I don't arrive home until after six I have plenty of time. I skip dinner since I ate a lot at lunch.

Once I've showered I make my way in to my room to get dressed and see that there is a dress which has been left out for me on the bed. I gave Erin the key to my apartment so she could get back a stack of books she's leant me over the years with the specific instructions that they were on the coffee table and she was not to touch anything else. She's never been much good at following instructions.

**Ana! Found this in your wardrobe, you have to wear it tonight! See you soon! E x**

Underneath is a scrawled:

_**Ana, I'm so sorry. I tried to stop her going in your room. It is a beautiful dress though, but wear what you like. She'll only pout for an hour or two. Love, Gemma**_

**Ana, ignore her. You have to wear this dress! It's so perfect! E x**

I smile to myself, immediately able to picture the two of them fighting over the pen, Gemma sighing as Erin made her way in to my room and started raking through my walk-in wardrobe. I am willing to bet money on the fact over half of my clothes are now lying on the floor in there. I go over to check and see that I'm right. I groan loudly at the thought of having to put it all back later and having to rake through the piles to find something else to wear, so reluctantly leave and shut the door, locking the mess neatly away from the rest of my impeccable bedroom.

Looking at the dress Erin has selected for me I see it is dark blue, low-cut and high hemmed. I think Kate bought it for me one Christmas and it's sat in my wardrobe ever since. The sleeves on it go to my elbows which I am thankful for, else I would have had to go back in to the wardrobe and find a jacket. Luckily it's still unseasonably warm, and I can always mooch a jacket off one of them if I get cold.

My doorbell rings at eight exactly and I drop the book I was reading, still Emma by Jane Austen, in to my purse before I go to open it.

"Hi Ana! Omigawd you wore the dress, see Gem, I told you she would! You look so amazing! Are you ready to go? This is going to be so much fun!" Erin barges past me as she speaks, and I have to laugh. She picks up my shoes and hands them to me, ushering me to put them on so we can get going.

"Hey Ana." Gemma says, much more reserved than her wife, although smiling just as brightly. I cannot imagine two more opposite people, yet somehow they make it work.

"Okay, ready now." I say, grinning. Despite my reservations I am actually looking forward to going out with them tonight. I usually find my evenings kind of lonely, so it's nice to be going out for once. Erin grins at me, and fluffs her hair in the mirror, smiling at her own reflection before she marches out of my apartment and back to the elevator, taking Gemma's hand and pulling her with her. As we get outside I see they've ordered a cab to take us where ever it is that we're going, so I assume we're going to be drinking. This is never a good idea around Erin. I always want to compete with her, match her drink for drink, and the awful truth is that she's younger and goes out a lot more than I do and therefore can hold a hell of a lot more alcohol than I can, which means I always end up getting horrendously drunk. And singing. I'm not a bad singer when I'm sober, but I'm god-awful when I'm pissed. And Erin always films it and sends it to people I know.

One mojito, I vow, and that will be it for the evening.

"Gemma, I saw that film you were in recently, the modern Midsummer Night's Dream one, and I have to tell you, I thought it was amazing. A friend from work took me because she was reviewing it and was like 'I know her'!" Gemma smiled, blushing softly.

"Yeah, I was really proud of it actually. Everyone was amazing."

"But especially you." I add, and Erin kisses her on the cheek.

"She's right, babe, you were incredible in that one! And remember I wore that black dress to the premiere and everyone was talking about it for weeks, remember? That was such an amazing night! Obviously, this one will be better though, because we have Ana here!" I laugh softly and shake my head at her.

"What stuff do you have coming up?"

"I'm actually just on a break from filming this one about the life of Virginia Woolf where I play her. It's really interesting looking in to her life. You like her novels, right?"

"Yeah, I love her work, she was an incredible writer. Such a tragic life though. It must be hard to truly capture her character in a way that enables you to act it." Gemma nods, and Erin just looks confused. She's never really been much for reading classic novels.

"Oh definitely, but I love a challenge." I swear she looks at Erin when she says this, and I grin brightly.

"Who knows, maybe this one could be your next Oscar!" She laughs and crosses her fingers.

Feeling that she's been quiet long enough, Erin launches in to a track by track description of her latest album, and a long speech about why I have to go down to LA for the launch party happening some point in the next two months. She's going to get back to me on dates, but I'm already sure I won't be able to go. I love the idea of getting out of Seattle, and all the times I've been to LA to stay with them have been great, but I'm not sure how I'll get the time off work to go down. I tell Erin this and she just carries on telling me why I need to try. Gemma and I just spend most of the car ride exchanging looks and laughing at her. I think she must have already started drinking because even though she's usually a little odd, she's never really this bad. Maybe she's just excited because it's been over a year since we went out properly just the three of us.

If it was any other couple I might feel a little bit like a third wheel, but Gemma isn't really one for public displays of affection, and for all her excitability, Erin really isn't either, so the worst I get is a quick kiss, and it's never in the middle of a conversation with me like Kate and Elliot so annoyingly do on occasion.

Once we arrive I realise with something akin to absolute horror that we're at a club. I was hoping for a quiet bar, but no. Erin never lets anything be done by halves. We bypass a long queue outside and are immediately let in by the bouncer. Perks of having famous friends I guess. We manage to find a table, and it's me who is sent to get drinks although Gemma has insisted it's her who will be buying for the evening. Since I bought them both lunch earlier I don't argue. It's pomegranate mojito's all round of course.

I return, expertly carrying all three drinks to the table just as a group of girls are leaving, giggling to themselves, clearly fans of one or the other of them. They take their drinks gratefully. Gemma sips hers slowly, but Erin's is done in five minutes, and she bounces up to go and get another. She'll probably be at the bar for a while.

"So have there been any developments since lunch with that guy you were telling us about?" Gemma asks me. I have to shake my head. I'm not exactly disappointed. It's not like I expected him to contact me this afternoon, but it doesn't mean I wouldn't have liked it if he had.

"No, I haven't heard from him since yesterday evening." I try not to sound dejected, but from the expression she's wearing, I've failed.

"Still though, you'll see him at the weekend at that gala thing you're going to, so you can scope things out then." I sigh and shake my head. I love Gemma, but she's ridiculously optimistic about these things.

"Gem, I'm pretty sure he doesn't like me. Not as anything more than a friend at least. I'm not even sure I like him that way. It was just confusing that someone like him was being so friendly and normal." She nods understandingly. I'm glad I met Gemma. She's really the only one of my friends who could be described as being a reasonable person. God knows I love Kate and Erin but they are hardly calm people who help me talk things through if I need to. I kind of wish she and Erin lived closer to me so I could talk to her like this more.

"Ana, is a relationship something you want at the moment?" she asks me. Honestly, it gives me pause for thought.

She's really the first person who asked. Kate just assumes that I do, because who couldn't want the perfect husband and a handful of perfect beautiful children running around outside a perfect house? Erin doesn't care enough to ask, mostly because she doesn't want to risk the fact that I'd say yes, I would like to have a committed relationship with someone because I think she's trying to live vicariously through me since I'm unmarried and she isn't, and it constantly disappoints her that I don't hook up more.

"With the right person, maybe. Honestly I don't think I have the time, and if I did then I'd want something serious and most guys who want a serious relationship don't take well to women who don't give them their full attention." She nodded, listening intently.

"Maybe you should figure that out first, before you try and find a guy. Before you figure out if you like this one or not and if he likes you." she suggests. It's not like if it was Kate saying it, because then it would be an implicit instructions. She's just trying to help, providing an answer if I need one but not pushing it. I know she's right though, and I nod, agreeing with her. I probably should sort myself out before I drag someone else into the craziness of my life.

I go to say something else but am interrupted promptly by Erin returning. She's decidedly less steady on her feet than when she left, and she has a mojito in each hand, both half-drunk with her taking sips from each other them in turn. I exchange a look with Gemma and we're both trying not to laugh again.

"Ana!" she exclaims, turning to me dramatically, slurring a little. "Everyone knows you here, they all love you!" I look at her confused and Gemma shakes her head and shrugs, clearly not knowing what she's talking about either. "Yeah… There were these guys at the bar, and I thought they were strange because neither of them were hitting on me and it's always nice even if I play for the other team because it reminds me how hot I am… Anyway! They were talking about you but you know, I was coming here so I didn't tell them I knew you." She beams at me and quickly finishes what very little remains in the almost empty glasses of her two drinks.

"Who were they?" I ask, more myself than either of them being as Gemma has about as much knowledge, if actually slightly less, as I do and Erin is looking drunker by the second, way too out of it to relay any more information. I turn around in the booth looking over to the bar, scanning for anyone I know, but I see no-one. I frown, making doubly sure. Whoever they were they must have gone elsewhere.

"Maybe they read my stuff." I suggest, brushing it off.

"And they were talking about it in a club? I don't know a lot of people who discuss the news in clubs, do you sweetie?" Gemma asks, aiming it at Erin who shook her head.

"And they sounded like they knew you." she says a little quieter. She goes through periods when she's drunk of being either really energised or really tired. She's currently using her wife's shoulder as a pillow, and I smile at the two of them.

About half an hour later, Erin has returned to the bar and Gemma and I are chatting casually, reminiscing about days past that the three of us spent together in London. I admit that I'd like to go back over there but I'm so comfortable with my life right now that I can't imagine up and leaving again. Last time I left I was deeply unhappy and a change like that helped me put my life together until I was ready to come back. Besides, if I left again I don't think I'd have the resilience I would need to force myself to come back here. I have been feeling a little restless since everything that happened last year though.

"How are you dealing with that?" she asks with eyes full of concern, and I shrug, biting my lip softly.

"It's hard. I mean, me and Carla might not have been close but she was still my Mom. Losing her like that was painful. After what happened five years ago I thought it might send me over the edge again, but it didn't."

"Oh Ana…" she says softly and I realise tears are pricking in my eyes. I blink them away quickly.

Drunken nights Gemma and I spent together in London after Erin fell asleep were mostly spent with us laughing about whatever we'd done that day. However, sometimes we'd stay up, and drunk and tired I was a lot more honest with Gemma than I had been with anyone else, even Kate and Erin. After Kate moved in with Elliot a lot happened to me. I didn't see her or speak to her for quite a while, and even when I did not everything had blown over. By the time we were back to best friend status I felt detached enough from what had happened that I didn't want to say anything to her. She would have just blamed herself for not being around, and that wasn't something I wanted her to do. It was three years ago that I lived in London, so two year after everything had happened and I'd still never told anybody. I'd sobbed when I told her and made her swear not to tell anyone, especially not Erin. She had agreed, of course. I think telling her hindered how close we became in the future, because I was always worried that she pitied me or that she was going to break the promise she had made me and tell someone else about it all. She never did either.

"I came as quickly as I could!" It's Erin, and the moment is gone. She's half whispering, like she's on some super-secret mission, and it's amusing after how heavy my thoughts became in the last minute. I look up, smiling once again, as I see is Gemma. "They're at the bar again Ana, those guys. They're not talking about you anymore but I thought you'd need to know."

I look to the bar and am genuinely shocked to see Christian and Elliot stood there chatting, clearly oblivious to the fact I am there. I slink down in my seat with wide eyes.

"What is it Ana?" Gemma asks curiously.

"The guy who was emailing me all yesterday, that's him, the taller one with copper hair." I say in a hushed tone, worried even though he's at least thirty feet away that he might hear me.

"Ooh, let's go say hi!" Erin suggests, starting to make her way over before Gemma grabs her hand shaking her head. Realising that she's probably not going to let it go, she gets up too and Erin beams at her.

"Let's go dance, okay sweetie? Ana, do you want to come with us?" I nod, and the three of us take off. Gemma is sure to choose a spot where we definitely can't be seen from the bar, and as always I am grateful that she is such a thoughtful person. Within moments we're dancing a little madly to some god-awful Pitbull song, and I don't even care. I'm actually having fun tonight, brief conversation with Gemma omitted from that summary of course. I tire much easier than them (hey, they're famous, they probably dance like crazy every night whereas I only do it when they're in town, I cannot be expected to keep up with them, on dancing or drinking).

I return to our table which is luckily still free and finish my mojito. Without intending to I have kept my silent promise to only have one. I am so thankful I've brought my book which I take out of my bag to read while Gemma and Erin continue having a good time dancing to whatever crap is blaring now. The light isn't great but it's good enough to see the words without straining my eyes. I must look a complete idiot, reading at a club, but it's not like I can go and get a drink with him hovering at the bar, begging the questions why the hell is he here and seriously, can I not catch a break? Or maybe this is my break, the chance to talk to him in person and be friendly instead of just sending messages to him. It's not that I don't want to speak to him. I do. It's just that messages can be changed, whereas if I blurt something stupid out loud then I risk ruining everything. And with my suspected attraction to him, it's really not something I want to chance.

I'm immersed in my book, enough that after glancing up a few times to see Gemma and Erin I can focus on it entirely, not too worried about where they are or what they're doing. I just hope Erin's mad drunk dancing doesn't injure anyone, including herself and her wife, who seem to be the two in the most immediate danger.

Of course whether or not I want to speak to Christian is a different matter entirely from whether Christian wants to speak to me or not.

"Anastasia…" I hear, and I look up to where the already familiar voice is coming from and meet the beautiful grey eyes of the man I've been so skilfully avoiding for the last hour.


	6. Six

"Why are you here?" I ask Christian immediately, and he raises one eyebrow in amusement. "I mean, hello. Why are you here?"

"Elliot insisted I come out with him tonight. He maintains that I don't have enough fun and I need to, and I quote 'stop being such a fucking bore and come out drinking'. May I sit with you?" I nod and he takes the seat beside me. I briefly meet Gemma's eyes. She is still dancing with Erin. She looks an odd mixture of confused and excited for me, so I just smile at her and look back at Christian, who's smiling down at me.

"Where is Elliot then? I should probably say hello…"

"He had to leave. Vivienne's running a fever and Kate needs him at home so he abandoned me here. I was going to leave but I saw you over here and thought I should come and speak to you in case you saw me going out and thought me rude for not doing so." And there was me hiding from him all evening. I feel kind of bad for having done that now that he's come over, prolonging his stay in what cannot be a preferred environment for him just so he can say hello to me. I play guiltily with the straw in my empty glass and his eyes flit down to my hand. "Can I buy you another drink?"

"Sure!" I say brightly, and realise there goes the promise of just one to myself. "Pomegranate mojito. I have a bit of a weakness for them; have done ever since Erin introduced me to them."

"I'll try and remember that." he says, smirking as he gets up again and walks to the bar. My eyes follow him there. There's a bit of a line so I expect he'll be a while.

Gemma quickly, seeing her window of opportunity, drags Erin over to us. Erin has somehow acquired another mojito and is happily sipping that. By my count, it's her eighth. Drunk Erin never remembers what terrible hangovers she gets and lives by the motto 'one more can't hurt… right?', a motto I do not subscribe to.

"Is that him?" Gemma asks eagerly. She might be sweet and quiet usually and excellent at keeping secrets if I need her to, but Gemma has always liked a good piece of gossip. Especially if it involves me and a man. I nod a little shyly, not like myself at all, and Gemma squeals softly. It's not something she's ever done before, and I immediately realise she must have gone with Erin to get more drinks while I was immersed in reading my book.

"Yeah, that's him."

"He's cute." I raise my eyebrows at her. "What just because I'm gay means I can't appreciate a gorgeous man?" I roll my eyes and shake my head immediately.

"No, I just can't believe you thought I'd be so bothered about a guy who was anything less than the single most attractive man I have ever met." I check, he's still at the bar. I can still talk about him without him realising. We're good for now.

"You're so shallow, Ana!" she gasps, laughing softly. I shrug my shoulders and nod in agreement with her.

"And proud of it. Now go away. You'll be even less cool about all of this that I am if you keep hanging around." She looks like she might protest, but upon realising that I'm right she takes Erin back to the dance floor. Erin looks pretty out of it, and her dancing has become even more dangerous. I recline back on my seat, watching them and laughing every time Erin bumps in to someone. They usually look annoyed until they realise who she is.

"Here you go, Miss Steele." Christian says as he comes back, and I take the drink and immediately take a long sip from it. I smile at him, meeting his eyes for the barest of moments before I have to look.

"Thank you. Though I thought we'd established that can call me Ana. Or Anastasia if you really insist."

"I do. I like your full name."

"People don't really call me it. Not even my Mom. I've been known as Ana pretty much since I was born. Or Annie actually, but I like that even less than Anastasia when anyone but my Dad calls me it."

"I see. Where do your parents live?"

"Well, when I say my Dad I mean Ray, my step-dad, and he lives in Florida now with his new wife. He met her a few years ago after him and my Mom split up and he moved down there with her when they got married."

"And your biological father? And your mother?"

"Well, my real Dad passed away the day after I was born." I realise I've used the term 'passed away'. It's something I personally equate with someone elderly who's lived a full life dying peacefully in their sleep one night, rather than a relatively young man who did in Marines training but I move on and don't correct myself. "And my Mom… She died last year." I will myself not to cry in front of him. I feel silly and weak but it was only eleven months ago. It's still painful to think about, and it's not like I have any other family to go through it with. It's just me now.

"I'm so sorry I asked." he says immediately, grey eyes now full of concern. I smile and wave it off as though it doesn't bother me. If I let it, then I'll just start crying, which is never a good thing to allow to happen. I let myself cry twice after my Mom died, and swore that would be the end of it. I am not weak. I cannot allow these things to break me. Not again.

"It's okay, you didn't know." I say with a small smile. I see his surprise at how calm I sound, the way I can just will my voice to stop wavering and the tears to disappear as though they were never there in the first place. We allow the moment to pass in silence before he speaks again.

"I rather enjoyed your emails yesterday Ana.

"I did too. Who would have guessed I could make a friend out of Christian Grey? I'm quite proud of it actually."

"So… We're friends?" I laugh and nod, rolling my eyes at him.

"Yes, of course we are. You think I spend my days emailing just anyone? It's a privilege reserved for only a very select few. Congratulations! You made the list of people I like. It's pretty short. Most people annoy me."

"Well you probably annoy most people, Miss Steele." I laugh.

"You're not very nice to your friends, are you?"

"Well, you're my only one, so I wouldn't really know. I will ask that you fill out evaluation forms every month so I can become better at it if you're going to be around for a while, which I sincerely doubt you will be." I smile, but there's something rather sad about that, the idea that Christian really has only his brother, a sister who lives in Europe and, from what I've gathered, has been married to more millionaires than I've ever met, and his employees. And me, a girl he met only last week and expects not to stick around anyway. I want to reach out and take his hand, give him a hug, anything. I don't. I feel guilty for not doing so though.

"Well I don't make friends with just anyone, so if I pick you it usually means I'm around to stay for a while. I apologise in advance for it."

"Don't apologise. It'll be nice to have someone else around. Plus I can talk to you at dull social events like the gala. Are you still planning on going?" I nod, taking another long sip of my drink, eyes fixed on him. He's staring at the table now. I get the feeling he feels embarrassed about not having any other friends.

"I wouldn't miss it for the world. Couldn't leave you alone, could I?" He smiles, and he seems a lot brighter now. That smile of his is completely disarming, completely seductive. I wonder how many women have become entranced by the same smile he's giving me now. It's fairly obvious that I'm not the first, and nor will I be the last, woman to be enthralled by Christian Grey. "Besides, these things are good for meeting people and there's some journalist types I'm supposed to talk to about god knows what."

"So you won't be spending all your time with me?" He sounds genuinely disappointed by this and I shake my head.

"No, I have other things to do, but I promise to spend at least seventy percent of my time with you. You're a lot more interesting and you understand sarcasm, which many important people who I'm supposed to talk to do not and this makes it way harder to talk to them about anything at all." He laughs. It's a good laugh. Dark, somehow seductive. He really is incredible.

I will myself to stop thinking how amazing he is. If I'm going to be his friend I need to stop finding him so attractive and incredible and whatever else and just be normal and stop freaking out when I'm around him. None of these seem like easy tasks to me. I'll work on it in the days leading up to the gala. That probably won't be enough time, but I can live in hope that it will be enough to make me a little better. It probably won't help at all actually. I can't help it.

"Yes, I can imagine not everyone appreciates the sarcasm as much as I do. Or the insults of course, they must be an acquired taste too." I nod.

"They are. I'm lucky you got used to them so quickly or we might not be having this discussion at all. I did wonder if you might start to hate me after the amount of times I called you narcissistic in those emails." He chuckled and shook his head.

"How could I possibly hate you? Especially when I already know it's true. I was more hurt when you implied I was stupid."

"You thought Emma was a person."

"Well, in my defence it is a name, and I didn't know you liked reading that much, so I just assumed it was a friend of yours. I don't think that warrants being judged as much as I was when I said it, do you?"

"Yes, I do. It was stupid." I maintain.

"No, it wasn't. So do you read a lot?" I can tell he's only trying to change the subject so I don't get to call him stupid again, and if he hadn't just switched to my favourite conversation topic I might have had more of a problem with it. However, I love talking about books almost as much as I love reading them, so just this once I let it go and go along with the conversation on its new path.

"All the time. Even more since Kate moved out and I have no-one to talk to. Do you read much?"

"I didn't used to, but I find it calming. It's always nice to escape reality for a little while. Do you have a favourite book." I think for a moment before I answer.

"Anything by the Brontë sisters, but in recent years I've just come to adore The Tenant of Wildfell Hall. I also love The Bell Jar by Sylvia Plath although I haven't read it in a long time, and Persuasion by Jane Austen which I hadn't read until last year. Kate gave it to me for my birthday last year because it's about a twenty seven year old with no romantic prospects and she thought it was funny. I have to admit, it's one of the better gifts that she's gotten me over the years."

"The more I hear about Kate the more I like her." he tells me with a wide grin. "I'm sure she told you that I didn't at first, but she can be funny when she wants to be, and I like that. Not as amusing as you though, Miss Steele."

"Well of course not!" I say with a small laugh. "So what about you, do you have a favourite book? Or a few like me?"

"Hmm… I love To Kill a Mockingbird. I read it after my mother made me watch the film because she likes the man who plays Atticus. The Great Gatsby is another one I like, and actually I like The Bell Jar too. And last year Elliot convinced me to read all the Game of Thrones books and I loved them."

"I adored them when I read them a couple of years ago. Have you seen the TV series?" he shakes his head and I gasp. "You have not lived, Grey!" I realise I'm using the habit I used to have a couple of years ago of referring to people by their surname when I've gone too long after knowing them to start using their first name. I've never called him Christian out loud, and it wouldn't feel right if I did. He doesn't seem to mind, so I continue. "I swear you have to watch it. It's the best show on TV."

"Well I don't watch much TV." he says shrugging.

"Nor do I, but this is a must watch. Seriously, if you never take any of my advice again then fine, but watch it. You'll love it, I swear."

"Well, I'll certainly try."

"Ana!" Gemma rushes up to me suddenly and I look up. Erin looks positively green. "I think all the drinking and dancing made her sick." I could have told her that was going to happen, but I don't feel like now is a good time to say I told you so, especially as I didn't, I just thought of it, which is the same in my book but probably not in theirs. "Can I borrow your cell and call a cab?" I can't be bothered to find my cell in my bag, so I hand the whole thing to her and she rushes out with Erin to get some air. I shake my head as they go, exasperated but silently hoping that she'll be okay of course.

"Friend of yours?" Christian asks, and I nod.

"Yeah, that's Gemma and the blonde she's dragging along is Erin who I was on the phone to in the car the other day. We were at lunch today."

"I remember." he says quickly.

"Well they insisted I meet up with them again tonight to come out for fun and drinking because they're not here very long and 'want to make the most of seeing me again'. I had my reservations but it's been a fun evening."

"Mostly because I showed up, right?"

"Of course." I mean it actually. While I might not have wanted to see Christian at first, Gemma and Erin are away in a world of their own, and I would have ended up alone reading for most of the evening if he hadn't been here. I'm grateful for the company he's providing.

We talk about books for a long time, and it's only once he's gone to fetch me another drink I realise that Gemma's not come back yet. I get up quickly and run outside without explanation. The street is empty. They've gone, probably a long time ago now. I resist the urge to scream. I have everything in my purse, keys, cell, book, and all the other important stuff. I go back inside cursing Gemma silently for being so preoccupied with her wife who should have known when she's had enough instead of having so much more to drink.

"I thought you'd run out on me." Christian says, pushing my drink towards me. I pick it up and down the whole thing in one gulp, not even bothering with the straw. He looks poised to say something sarcastic before he sees my face. "What happened?"

"Those idiots have gone away with my purse. No keys, no cell, and no money. I am actually going to kill them both when I see them again."

"You can stay at my place." he tells me after a moment of pondering the situation. I want to say no because I hate relying on people for anything, especially people I've just met, but honestly I have no other choice other than to spend the night wandering the city until I find their hotel and get my stuff back. They neglected to tell me where they're staying, so that's really not a brilliant idea. Eventually I sigh and nod.

"Thank you. I wouldn't unless it was a dire situation."

"Always happy to help a friend in need. Especially my oldest and only friend." It once again makes me a little sad that I'm his only friend. I'm grateful that we are friends though. He's already coming through when I need him. "Let's get one more drink and then I'll take you to mine. I'm sure you could do with the rest before work tomorrow and it's already pretty late." I agree, of course. How could I say no when he's fast become my knight in shining armour?

He doesn't drive us back, and given that he's drunk probably more than me I'm grateful for this. Instead I find out that he has a chauffeur and try not to make sarcastic comments about it mostly because I'm half drunk and a little jealous. And exhausted. I almost fall asleep on his shoulder in the car. And in the elevator up to his apartment.

"Take my room Ana." he offers once we've got to Escala, his apartment building. His apartment is huge and beautifully decorated. I'm too tired to question why he doesn't just put me in a guest room, which he must have somewhere. I kick off my shoes and almost topple over. He sighs and picks me up with worrying ease. I'm too tired to complain. He lends me a shirt to change in to and offers to help me undress since I'm too tired. I reject the offer and send him out of the room even though I know he really is just offering to be nice. He's the perfect gentleman, not looking anywhere he's not supposed to. I'm almost disappointed as I climb in to his bed.

In the morning, I manage not to panic myself about being somewhere other than my own room. What I do freak out about is the fact he's sleeping next to me.


	7. Seven

I should be trying to leave, but I'm not. Why am I not? His arm is draped over me. I feel oddly comfortable, and I shouldn't. I need to leave, if for no other reason besides the fact I have work in a couple of hours. I'm aware that it's going to be really awkward when he wakes up if I'm just lying here comfortably next to him. He must have fallen asleep. Maybe he was drunk enough to forget I was here?

The awful thought that we might have slept together briefly crosses my mind. After all, I am out of the dress I was practically forced to wear last night. I'm pretty sure I remember falling asleep and not having done anything like that though, and I really wasn't that drunk. I was mostly just tired. I think this time I'm okay.

Slowly I remove his arm from over me and roll on to my side to try and get up without waking him. I roll a little too far though and crash to the floor. I wince as I hear him stirring.

He sits straight up and I watch him looking around the room, a little dazed and confused then suddenly down at me. I feel kind of guilty for trying to sneak out as I watch the confusion being replaced by amusement. I'm glad one of us thinks this is funny. I definitely don't.

"Good morning. Nice to know you're not only clumsy when you're on your feet." I quite simply sit glaring at him. He smirks at me, sitting back against the head board. I make no move to get up because I feel like if I do then I'll either have to lie back down next to him or stand awkwardly, and neither of them seem like particularly good ideas.

"Oh yeah, I'm clumsy all the time. Why am I here? With you? In what I assume is your bed?" I ask hurridly. He rubs his eyes, and I'd think it was cute if I wasn't so annoyed. Mostly I'm annoyed at myself for falling out of the bed, but I'm blaming him for being here.

"Well I decided to put you in here last night," I want to interrupt and ask why, but he carries on and the moment passes. I'll ask him later. "And then I was going to leave but you kept saying things to me so I sat on the bed and talked to you until you fell asleep and then I guess I did too." I feel a great sense of relief wash over me coupled with the tiniest amount of disappointment imaginable.

"Okay, well, thanks for putting me up for the night. I need to go home now."

"And how exactly are you planning to get there being as you have no keys to get in and no car to take you there anyway?" He has a point.

"Fuck, that means I have to go to work in the stupid fucking dress! Why is this happening to me?" I whine, lying back on the floor in exasperation. I think he's trying not to laugh at me, which just makes me even more annoyed. This is not funny. This is awful. "And how am I even supposed to get to work? This is already a terrible day and it's not even eight am yet. I am seriously going to kill my friends for going off with all my stuff last night! Stop laughing at me, this is not funny!"

"You're ridiculous." I would be offended but he does kind of have a point.

"I don't care; this is the worst way to start a day."

"You don't like waking up to me? I'm hurt, Anastasia." I looked up and pulled a face at him. Actually once the shock subsided it was quite nice having him in bed with me but there's literally no way in hell I'm going to say that to him now. Or ever probably.

"I'm really not in the mood." I say quietly, suddenly getting to my feet and looking around the room. "And where is my dress? I just want to get out of here."

"Anastasia, calm down." His tone is suddenly authoritative and I stop and look at him, pushing my long hair back from my face. "Get dressed and we'll have breakfast. Then I'll take you to work, okay?" I nod not really seeing much room for argument here. "I probably have something a little more suitable for you to wear to work somewhere if you'd like me to try and find something for you." I don't want to say yes, because of course if he has something then it's either his ex-wife's or an ex-girlfriend's and I don't really want to wear it, but again, there's not much choice. I really can't wear something like that to work. It's about as far from professional as a dress can get.

"Thank you, that would be nice of you." I say. He gets up and I have to turn away so I'm not staring. The fact he's shirtless is incredibly distracting. He walks out of the room and I lie back down on the bed. I can't have got more than about five hours sleep, and I'm exhausted. I need a day at home in bed, not at work, but nonetheless I am forced to continue. At least I don't have a hangover as bad as the one Erin probably has.

Christian is back after a minute or so with a purple dress which he hands to me. It's way more professional than the other one, and I take it gladly, even if it did belong to his wife.

"My sister Mia bought it and decided she didn't like it and left it here when she was staying a couple of months ago." he says, almost as if reading my thoughts and sensing my reservations about wearing it. I feel a lot more comfortable wearing it now I know that than I would have done if it belonged to someone else. I'm not sure why I would have had a problem with it but I definitely would have done. Maybe I'm being a bit oversensitive about it, but it's not an issue now so I resolve not to care and usher him out of the room so I can get dressed. "I forgot to say that the door there goes to the ensuite if you need a shower." he tells me as he leaves, and I gratefully go immediately to the bathroom and let the wonderfully hot water run over me, trying to wash away all the annoyance almost, before I get dressed. It doesn't fit particularly well, but it's better than the blue dress, so I accept it. There wasn't much chance of his sister being the exact same height and build as me anyway. He's brought me a black jacket too which I'm thankful for because the dress has short sleeves. I don't wear short sleeves. I can see why his sister didn't want it. It's not a nice dress.

After a while I go downstairs, brushing my fingers through my hair in an attempt to make it looks somewhat presentable. I realise looking in the mirror that I look horrifyingly like my younger self, before I started buying clothes which fit me and wearing make-up and making my hair look at least a little less crazy than it does naturally. I don't like looking like this. I'm not this person anymore; I'm stronger, more confident, less easily shaken when bad things happen.

"You look so different like that." Christian comments as I go and sit beside him at the breakfast bar he's sat at. He is already dressed in a well put together navy blue suit and black tie and has somehow found the time to also make the two of us coffee and pancakes I hate to complain when he's gone to such effort, but all I really want is tea. And my book. I like reading before work. This bag losing catastrophe has seriously screwed everything up for me. I pull a face at him.

"Awful, right?"

"No, Anastasia, not awful, just different. Less put together. I quite like it actually." I roll my eyes. Obviously he's just trying to make me feel better about having to wear it, but I really don't appreciate the effort. I much prefer people to just tell me the truth.

"Bullshit, I look terrible and we both know it. I hate to be rude, but can you be as quick as you can? I'm worried I'll be late and that would just be the cherry on top of an already awful morning."

"Eat first." he tells me, and I frown. I'm never hungry in the mornings.

"I'm really not hungry right now. I'll have lunch later." I say, though why it bothers him if I eat or not is beyond me. I do take a sip of the coffee though. I'm not particularly fond of it, but the stuff he has is really good. It would be. A jar of it probably costs more than my car did. I'm glad I left my car at work yesterday and that I have spare keys in my desk. At least I'll be able to drive places I need to go. That's definitely an improvement on having nothing at all.

"Please eat something, Anastasia." He says please but once again his tone is commanding, so I just do as he says. I'm too tired to engage in such a trivial argument.

"You're a good cook." I say in between mouthfuls. Even though I hate eating in the morning the pancakes he has made are delicious. He laughs and shakes his head, finishing his mouthful before he speaks to me.

"My housekeeper made them." Of course. As if someone like him would be able to do something as normal as cooking.

"Well then your housekeeper's a very good cook."

"I'll be sure to pass along your compliments when I see her this evening. Now, are you done with your food?" I nod, looking down at my empty plate. I assume we're just leaving the dishes for the poor housekeeper to have to deal with. "Come on then."

The drive to work passes quickly. He lives a lot closer to my office than I do, so we're only in the car together for a couple of minutes, not enough time for a proper conversation. I'm a little disappointed about that. Before everything happened, I did have a nice time last night just talking to him. I like being his friend. I don't like the idea of him being lonely and not having anyone besides his family.

"See you on Saturday. I'll try and call you before then, arrange a time to pick you up."

"Mr Grey, is that your cryptic way of asking me to be your date?" I ask with a laugh, and he smiles at me charmingly.

"They were your words, not mine. I just thought there was no point in us going separately."

"You're ridiculous. I'll speak to you later." I actually wave to him as he drives away and I can see him laughing in his car. I'm glad I can amuse one person at least. If it was anyone else I might mind them laughing at me this much, but he looks like he could do with someone around who makes him laugh. I've always been good at being comedic relief by accident. I'm never intentionally funny but people always seem to be laughing at me. Oh well. It's nice for them at least.

Around ten o' clock my assistant tells me that Gemma's here to see me, and I tell him to send her in.

I fold my arms over my chest and just glare at her as she walks in.

"Oh God, I am so sorry Ana, I was so distracted by Erin I completely forgot we took your bag and we were back at the hotel by the time I realised and I couldn't leave her and I thought you might have gone anyway." she gushes as soon as she's through the door. I just sit, still looking at her. I am genuinely annoyed.

"You realise I had to go home with Christian because I had literally nowhere else to go, right? I couldn't even get in to my own house or call a cab or get a hotel because you had my keys, phone and money. I couldn't go home and get anything to wear today so I again had to rely on Christian to provide me with something, and he had to bring me to work. I'm sure you'll understand why I am extremely pissed off with both you and Erin at the moment." She looks like she feels genuinely bad about what she's done, and I know I probably won't stay mad at them for long because it was a genuine mistake, but dammit, I am annoyed at them right now and I want to make her feel as guilty as I possibly can because that is the kind of awful person I am. I hold my hand out and she returns my bag to me, and I resist the urge to hug it because I'm so glad I have it back. My whole life is in that purse. I literally can barely even function twelve hours without it by my side.

"Well hey, at least you got to spend some extra time with Christian, right?" I debate with myself whether to mention to her that I woke up with him in his bed, but I decide against doing so. She'll undoubtedly get the wrong idea about the nature of my going home with him and I'll never be able to shake it, no matter how much I protest.

"That is not the point. The point is you should have thought before you jumped in that taxi and went home with all my stuff and left me stranded in a club in the middle of the city with no way to get home and no way to get in if I did without even telling me the name of your fucking hotel!" I get a little louder with each word. I'm really only realising as I speak just how angry I am with her. Erin has always been irresponsible and a little frivolous but Gemma never has. I get that she was worried about her wife but surely she could have remembered just that one thing. It's borderline selfish that she didn't.

"I really am so sorry." She sounds genuinely sorry. She sounds a little ashamed as well. I rub my temples and push my hair back away from my eyes so I can see her again.

"Well obviously you're forgiven, as is your wife. I'm sure she's being punished enough by the hangover she's left with." Gemma smirks and nods. "And you can take me out now for an expensive lunch and we'll forget all about it. And I hope you know I will be using this as ammo to make you feel guilty every time I want something from you in future. Other than that… Well, I won't yell at you anymore. Sorry for being so worked up about this in the first place. I know it was an accident."

She walks round my desk and hugs me tightly, and I grin.

"I promise I will never do anything like that again. I'll never even ask to borrow your phone again in case I do it by accident. And Erin has already sworn off drinking, but she does that every time she's hung-over so I wouldn't hold her to it. Although I am going to seriously start replacing her drinks with juice and water. I know she's young but I really wish she'd be at least a little more responsible… I mean I was like that at her age and it was only a year after that I met her, but still, I wish she'd try at least. Were you like that when you were her age?"

When I was Erin's age I was just coming out of the worst year of my life. I remember I drank a lot and slept with a lot of men. I didn't stop being like that until I moved to London a year later and actually got serious about my life. I matured a lot when I was over there.

"I was reckless, yes, but as I saw it I had good reason to be. As far as I can tell Erin just does it because it's fun. If it really bothers you then you should talk to her." She nods, and I know she probably will. She likes voicing her concerns with her relationship, I know she worries that she and Erin are too different and she therefore does all she can to make it work between them.

She goes for a little walk around Seattle and I have a meeting for the rest of the morning. We meet at one for lunch. She was going to try and bring Erin, but I guess she's still nursing her killer hangover. Funny, she's usually recovered by lunch. Then again, she did drink a lot last night, even for her.

We go to lunch together and enjoy light and casual conversation. We avoid talking about London though, which is strange for us because we usually love reminiscing about it. I think the fact it stirred up some unpleasant memories for me yesterday resonated with her, and instead we talk about my last visit to LA. I stayed for just over a month, writing pieces each week to send home about non-Caucasian and LGBT actors and actresses in lead roles in films and TV. I felt it was topical as Gemma had just won her Best Leading Actress Oscar, a ceremony which I had proudly attended with her as Erin was on tour for the first week I was down there. I quoted her for a few of the articles, I seem to remember.

I return to work that afternoon. It's a quiet sort, and I mainly spend it preparing for Jack Hyde's trial, which starts tomorrow. My intern Lauren has already done an interview with one of the women testifying against him, and I read over it. I'm making the most of Lauren while I can because she is excellent at her job, and I wouldn't think it will be too long before she gets a real job writing somewhere. Hopefully it will be our paper that offers her a job.

I don't get home very late, and it bothers me. I like staying at work past the time I need to; if I don't then I start to realise how awful and lonely my apartment is. Maybe I'll have to hire help like Christian has, then I won't always have to be by myself.

My phone rang, and realising it was Christian I answered immediately, not even thinking about the fact it was way past midnight.

"Hey, I was just thinking about you." I answered brightly.

"You were?" He sounded genuinely puzzled by this, and I smiled to myself, curling my legs under myself as I sat on the couch, balancing the phone between my chin and shoulder as I took a long sip of the tea I had made myself.

"What, your oldest and dearest friend can't think about you every so often?" He laughed.

"Nice to know you haven't forgotten me already."

"Since this morning? My memory might be getting bad in my old age but not that bad."

"Of course not. So, I was wondering if you still wanted to go to the gala with me? I was kidding this morning, obviously you don't have to."

"No, I'd love to. It'll be nice not to show up at a social event by myself for once. People will be decidedly less judgemental when I have a handsome man on my arm."

"Excellent. I'll pick you up at seven thirty then. I'm really looking forward to it. I won't keep you, I know it's late."

"Bye!" I say brightly, putting the phone down. As I can't be bothered to move, I pull a blanket over myself and spend the night on the couch.


	8. Eight

Thursday and Friday at work passed seemingly quickly. I spent my mornings at the trial and my afternoons at work typing up my notes. It was a quiet couple of days, well, apart from the giddy phone calls I kept getting from Erin. I think she felt guilty about everything, especially as she had been too hung-over to come and apologise with her wife and was trying to make up for it by telling me everything they were doing. I was assured by Gemma that she would stop soon; she was taking Erin to a resort in Hawaii for two weeks after they got done in Seattle. I was supposed to keep it a secret as she wanted to surprise her. I thought it was a great idea. Erin needs a week of relaxation so she can just stop for a while. It must be tiring to be that excitable all the time. Besides, I have been assured by Gemma that the resort they're going to has no cell reception and no internet, so I'll get to avoid the craziness for a while. I love her dearly, but she gives me a tension headache every time we speak.

I am enjoying my Friday evening on my own with a glass of wine. I have cooked a proper meal for myself for once, and it feels good to have reminded myself that I haven't lost my edge when it comes to culinary prowess.

I'm watching an old black and white horror film, a tradition me and Kate used to have on the rare Friday nights that we didn't go out. Even though the special effects are crap and I know it's not real they still scare me.

It's really no surprise that I scream when there's a knock at my door.

Pausing the movie I check my reflection quickly, glad I never changed out of the green blouse and black skirt I wore to work, and I open the door. I can't stop myself from smiling when I see who it is standing there.

"Were you screaming?"

"Hello to you too, Mr Grey." He smirks and immediately walks in past me. "Come in, please, this isn't at all an imposition or unexpected. I do believe our non-date is tomorrow, not today, but I can go and change if I'm wrong."

"Why did you scream?" he asks, blatantly ignoring everything I've said to him. I like Christian a lot but his is a pain in the ass sometimes, it hasn't taken me long at all to realise that. I sigh and point at the television screen, and he looks over. Clearly he's never seen Nosferatu, or he probably would have guessed.

"Horror movie. I thought you were a Vampire."

"I'm sincerely hoping your insanity doesn't start rubbing off on me with all this time we're spending together."

"Hey, you elected to come over this evening, I didn't ask you here." He looks a little rejected at that, and I think he assumes I don't want him there. Poor guy. "I'm just kidding, I'm glad you came over. I'm kind of bored and lonely right now, so it's nice to have the company of one of my closest friends." He seems genuinely pleased that I want him there. It still makes me sad for no reason I can put in to words that I really am his oldest, closest, and only friend, after just a week of knowing him. "Would you like a drink?"

"I'll have whatever you're having." he instructs me, eyeing my glass. I nod and walk to the kitchen and grab a glass, pouring out the red wine. I'm thankful I decided tonight was the night to open the expensive wine, as I'm sure someone like Christian Grey would not appreciate the ten dollar bottle I usually drink. "Thank you." he says as I hand him the glass. He's sitting on the sofa, and I settle back down in the spot I was in before.

"Was there a reason you came over or did you really just want to come and see me?"

"Is it a bad thing if I did?" I smile and shake my head, taking my own wine glass off the table and taking a long drink. "Honestly I was kind of bored too and I hadn't spoken to you since Wednesday, so I considered calling you but decided to come over instead."

"Aww, you missed me!" I tease him, grinning.

"I did actually. I've seen you a lot over the last week and it felt strange to go so long without speaking to you. I've decided I rather like having a friend, even one as sarcastic as you are."

"I take that as a compliment."

"Of course you do."

"But you're okay though?" I have to ask, because Christian Grey showing up at my house for no reason whatsoever, no matter if we consider ourselves friends or not, isn't something I expected to happen.

I wonder for a moment if Christian is as lonely as I am sometimes. If as soon as he gets out of work and goes back to an empty apartment he realises like I do that there's no-one unless he drives miles to go and see his brother, or I do the same to visit Kate. I might have friends but they all live far away. I'm not close to anyone at work, not in a way that would enable me to come and visit them like this. Since we became friends I've been thinking that Christian needs me so he doesn't feel lonely, but it's not just that. I need him for exactly the same reason that he needs me.

"Of course I am." He doesn't sound quite sure when he speaks, but I know not to push it. "I'm sorry I interrupted your film though."

"Don't worry, I've seen it loads. It really is nice to have some company for once. I could always put it back to the beginning and you can watch it with me? I'm guessing you don't watch a lot of film or TV but you should definitely watch this movie. It's a classic and one of my favourites." I tell him. He looks thoughtful for a moment before he nods in agreement.

"I'd like that actually. You'll have to educate me on film and TV and music at some point."

"That sounds fun. We'll start with this." My mind is already spinning thinking of things I can show him. I'm unreasonably passionate about the things I like, and I love sharing them with my friends. I like that he's willing to let me educate him on these things. "Do you want anything to eat before we start?"

"I'm fine thank you, I already ate." I nod and flick the movie back to the beginning.

"You know, we should make this a weekly thing if you're not busy, you should come round. We don't have to watch movies, just catch up so we have someone to talk to." I could really use someone to talk to sometimes, and not about work. Just about everything.

"That sounds wonderful, I'd love to." I didn't expect him to agree. I at least expected a 'Perhaps, if I'm not busy Anastasia, I do after all have three billion companies to run and no time for silly boring girls like you'. It surprises me that apparently he genuinely wants to spend more time with me than necessary. Honestly my first thought when he was at the door was that it was a flying visit to tell me he wasn't going to the gala tomorrow anymore and I'd have to go by myself even though I had my hopes up about having someone there I knew.

We sit in silence watching the movie, well, almost silence; I do spend a significant amount of time explaining how every copy of this movie apart from one was destroyed because Bram Stoker's family sued it for being too much like Dracula. He seems genuinely interested in what I'm saying though, and doesn't complain and tell me to be quiet like Kate or Erin would, and isn't just listening to me to be polite like Gemma would. He also appears to really like the movie, and tells me as much as it finishes. It's late, and I expect him to say he's leaving even though I really don't want him to. He doesn't.

"Do you mind if we watch something else? Feel free to say no, I know it's late and you probably want me to go." I shake my head quickly.

"No, I like having you here. You don't need to go yet. Do you want another classic horror movie or something else?" He thinks for a moment before he replies and I watch him. I'm sure something must have happened to make him want to stay here, and I want to ask because if I know then maybe I can try and make it better, but I can't without seeming pushy.

"Horror sounds good."

"Then I think we should watch Psycho. It's another one of the greats."

"I fully trust your judgement. We'll watch that one." I find the DVD quickly and put it in before I return to my seat on the sofa next to him. I'm tired but I stay there, trying to concentrate through half open eyes. It's only about twenty minutes in that I fall asleep, in my exhausted state completely forgetting about Christian. I used to have to sleep with the TV on so I never fell too deeply in to sleep, when I used to have nightmares a lot, so the noise doesn't wake me up easily.

I'm awoken by a stirring beside me and my eyes shoot open instantly. For the second time in a week I find myself in bed with Christian. It's still dark outside, and his stirring is erratic and uncomfortable, and I know from experience that he's having nightmares. Again, his arm is over my waist, but this time I'm facing him. I debate with whether or not to wake him, but I remember how much I used to wish for someone to wake me from mine in the hopes that when I returned to sleep I might dream of something else. It's for this reason that I start combing my fingers through his soft copper hair, whispering his name until slowly; he drifts back in to consciousness.

He looks at me, a little confused, and I immediately take my hand out of his hair. I've never initiated physical contact with him before, nor have I called him his first name out loud before now. I give him a moment to contemplate his surroundings and realise where he is.

"Sorry, I think you were having a nightmare. I thought I should wake you." I speak softly, knowing he's still half asleep. He nods.

"I was, yeah. Thank you. Usually I just have to endure it until I wake up of my own accord."

"It didn't feel right to just leave you to go through it. You sure you don't mind that I woke you up?" I ask him uncertainly. He shakes his head.

"No, of course not. I just thought you were annoyed that I was in the same bed as you again, but then I thought it couldn't be that because you were waking me up nicely rather than pushing me out of the bed. I really couldn't be bothered to drive home this late, and your bed looked a lot comfier than the sofa. I came to put you to bed and lay down and then I was asleep. I was more tired than I thought I was."

I kind of want to ask what the bad dream he had was about, but I figure if he's anything like me then he'll either tell me to drop it or make something up, so I don't. Selfishly, I'm not sure I'm ready to handle someone else's demons as well as my own.

"Are you going to leave now then?"

"Would you mind if I stayed?" He looks lost and unsure, and without hesitation I wrap my arms around him, telling him silently that of course I don't mind. I fit neatly under his chin, and he has one hand tangled in my long brown hair. I lie very still, forcing myself to stay awake until I'm sure he's asleep and the nightmares are gone this time. I'll wake him again if I need to, but for now I just go to sleep, not bothered by how close we are or how strange this probably is, and just worried about him, wanting him to feel safe with me at least. I feel almost privileged that he's let me in like this. I really don't want to push him away.

When I wake up he's sat up a little, using my pillows as a backrest. He's still got one arm around me, as though he's forgotten it's there. My room is painted a light turquoise colour, and now it's daylight enough light comes in through the curtains that he can sit up reading without needing to switch on a light. I see he's taken Emma off my nightstand and is reading it and I look up and smile brightly at him even though it's early. I don't like mornings, but I'm also used to them now, so I'm not horrifically grumpy either. Happy medium.

"How do you like the book?" I ask. He's about a quarter of the way through it I see. It's only when I speak that he looks and realises I'm awake and takes his arm away from around me. I feel guilty, like it's my fault it was there in the first place.

"It's very good."

"You know Kate won't read Jane Austen. She says it's pretentious Victorian chick-lit." He laughs. He can't be too mad at me if he's still laughing at me. Not that he has much reason to be from where I'm standing, or lying as the case might be, but he's not been particularly predictable so far, and not a lot of what he does makes sense to me. Him turning up last night still has me a little confused.

"I can see where she's coming from. I like her though."

"So, would you like some breakfast? I'm not a bad cook and I don't get to do it very often. Not much point for just myself."

"That would be great, thank you, Anastasia."

I get out of bed, leaving him there and wander out of my bedroom and in to the kitchen. I have no idea what he wants so I decide to improvise and cook omelettes. Since he ate pancakes the other day I assume he eats eggs, well, either that or he's been grossly misinformed about what the ingredients of a pancake are.

He comes out to join me after a while, and remembering that I saw him drink it the other morning I pour him a black coffee before I make myself tea. I make tea the proper way, strong earl grey with a splash of milk and no sugar.

"Are you okay after last night?" I ask him quietly, not really sure whether I should or not but feeling eventually that I need to say something. I can't just leave it and act like it was nothing because it wasn't, and if he won't talk about the nightmare then we at least need to discuss the fact that he thought it was okay to sleep in the same bed as me, for the second time in one week. Even with his limited experience with friends he must know that isn't normal. People don't just do that. Glad as I am that I was able to help him I feel like I have to draw a boundary there. It can't happen again. It feels far too romantic, to intimate when I know it isn't, and it's confusing even though I know it means nothing.

"Yes, I'm okay. It helped having you there to wake me." Now I feel guilty that I don't want it to happen again. I feel like I'm an awful person for pushing him away when he's letting me in. Of course I'm not the first, he was married after all, but I know it's reserved only for a select few, and for that reason I have to be delicate because I like that he trusts me and that I make him feel safe and comfortable, but that can't happen. Not regularly at least. "Are you annoyed that I stayed with you?"

"Not annoyed." I assure him. "I just… I guess I don't understand why you did."

"I explained though…"

"Yeah, I know. I just… I find it hard to believe you fell asleep in the same bed as me purely coincidentally twice in the same week."

"I don't know what you want me to say, Anastasia. It won't happen again, obviously. I'll be more vigilant in future." It explains nothing, but if I carry on the conversation it will seem pushy, perhaps even presumptuous, like I'm suggesting that he wanted to sleep in the same bed as me, which of course he didn't. That would be ridiculous, of course.

We eat in relative silence. He tells me that he needs to get home and I rather welcome the news.

"I'll pick you up at seven thirty, like we agreed." I'm surprised he still wants to go, but I shouldn't be considering he gave no indication of wanting to cancel our plans during breakfast or before that either.

"Okay, I'll see you then." He looks like he wants to say something more but I think his head gets the better of him and he walks away without uttering another word. I watch him walk away from just a moment before I close the door to my apartment, and exhaustedly decide that since I have no work to do, I may as well go back to be and try and catch another hour or so of sleep.

I spend the afternoon reading sitting in my bedroom. I only realise how late it is when I hear a knock at the door. This time I hope it's not Christian. It's going to be hard enough to see him this evening without him showing up again.

"Miss Steele?" The woman there asks, and I nod. "I have a package for you." She hands me a huge cream coloured box with a gold ribbon tying it together, and I sign for it before she makes quickly for the elevator again. I struggle to carry it in but I manage, getting in to the bedroom and lying it down on the bed. I take the ribbon off and open the lid.

**Anastasia, just in case you had nothing else to wear tonight. Also a thank you for what you did last night. Please don't feel you have to wear it. I won't be offended. –Christian.**

I take out what I now realise is a dress and bite my lip. It's beautiful of course; I was expecting nothing less. It's light pink and longer at the back than the front, strapless, and my size exactly. Enclosed are also cream heels and an amethyst necklace in a velvet box. T must have cost a fortune. I wonder for a while if I should accept it, but, materialistic as I am, I can't resist.


	9. Nine

I look damn hot in the dress, which is a shame because I have resolved not to wear it. Even though it's really pretty and I look like a princess. I'll just take it off and wear something else (okay I might not have bought anything specifically but I have formal dresses) and tell Christian that it's too much and I can't accept it. I will however wear it for the next hour and mope over the fact I can't keep it. It's the right thing to do.

But it is really pretty.

But it will also be impossible to talk to Christian about boundaries when I'm wearing a dress he sent me that probably costs more than I earn in a year because obviously sending something like that to me isn't okay. I know he just means it as thoughtful but it's way too much.

But also… pretty.

But I can't.

But if I did then I just found the prefect jacket to go with it which matches the shoes exactly, so really it would be silly not to.

But boundaries!

But so pretty!

Before I know it I'm hanging up the other dress I decided on and putting on the shoes and the necklace. I know this is a terrible idea but I feel like I literally can't stop myself from doing it anyway. By the time the door goes I have just finished fixing my hair. Most of it is tied up intricately with a few loose curls framing my face. I did my make-up so that the lipstick is the exact shade of my dress. Even if I do say so myself, I look particularly good this evening, as I knew I would in the dress, although I still shouldn't have worn it. I check my reflection once more before I stand, taking my purse and walking out of my room to open the front door.

"Anastasia, you look beautiful." Christian's eyes are lit up, probably because I'm wearing the dress. I smile brightly at him and step out of my apartment, locking my door quickly before I take the time to look at him properly. He's wearing a tuxedo of course, and somehow is managing to look even more handsome than he usually does.

"Thank you, you look great too! I've been looking forward to this all day!" I'm being genuine. I actually enjoy social events like this even when I don't have someone to go with, and getting to go with Christian is just a bonus.

"So have I, I think we'll have a very nice time. It's nice that I'll be able to talk to someone about things other than business."

"Yeah, it'll be nice to have someone not from work there with me. I mean everyone from work is perfectly nice but I see them every day. It's good to have some variety, right?" He nods and we step in to the elevator to go down.

Outside I see that Christian has decided we need to be driven there, despite the fact we are both capable drivers. It's an important event, and past a glass of champagne I really don't plan on having much alcohol, certainly not enough to go over the limit, so I really don't see why this is necessary. Honestly, with the dress and now the chauffeured car, it's coming across a little like he's trying to impress me with how rich he is which seems pointless.

"Look, I wanted to say thank you for the dress. And the shoes. And the necklace. It was really thoughtful of you to get them all for me but I have to say, it kind of overstepped the line. I mean, it's not really the kind of thing you give a friend. It's too much."

"But you wore it."

"Yes I did." Because I am materialistic and shallow and like pretty things and this is much nicer than anything I own. Oops. "Because I wanted to show you how grateful I was that you went to the trouble of getting it for me. And I'll pay you back for it because it would be wrong just to take it." Even though it will significantly dent my savings and mean I can never buy another dress again for many years to come. "I'm only telling you all this so we can establish what is and isn't appropriate."

"So what else have I done that has annoyed you?" He sounds much colder than he usually does when he's speaking to me, the way I imagined he would be before I met him. There's a power to that voice that demands not to be argued with, and I think he wants me to wave it off rather than discuss anything with him, but as I had already resolved to I will.

"Well, in future if you want to buy me gifts then ask me first. And it really should only be for a designated gift giving day like my birthday or Christmas. And the picking out shoes and jewellery to go with it comes across as really controlling. And unless you call me first you probably shouldn't just drop by my apartment uninvited. And you definitely shouldn't sleep in the same bed as me, accidental or not. It's too much and it's really intense. I know you don't really know how to have a friend, but it's not like this."

I feel very relieved once it's all out in the open, but he just looks pissed off at me. I suppose it's fair enough for him to be angry, but I had to say something. I couldn't just let it sit there. I have a tendency to let these things build until I explode, and I didn't want that to happen. It doesn't seem like a particularly constructive way of dealing with things.

"Well of course if these things bother you then I'll stop." His harsh tone makes it sound like I am being completely unreasonable, as though I'm deliberately finding problems where there are none. He's making me feel guilty. I bite my lip and twist a strand of hair around my index finger. I can feel his gaze resting on me, and I try not to fidget uncomfortably under it.

The gala is being held in the Hotel Bellevue, and I'm relieved when we finally arrive. As most of the people from work who were invited, I bought not only my seat at the table but donated a little extra to the charity which gives to local orphaned children. In what it offered I was told it would be pretty standard, just dinner and dancing with live classical music, but the venue and décor were going to be very grand, and the tickets were not cheap. Of course, as is the norm with events like this, not the I've been to many in my time, this was probably only my third or fourth, it was also used for general networking, more for businesses that journalists, but if I want to be editor one day then connections are key. My boss Theresa will be here on my table as well as various friends of mine from work, among them Ian the man who was supposed to do Christian's interview, my friend Irene, and the man who just relocated to the office next to mine, Jared as well as some others I don't know too well who are on other tables.

All reservations aside, I am glad I wore the dress. Pulling up to the front of the hotel I see immediately that nothing I had in the wardrobe would have been fancy enough. The car stops and Christian gets out and comes round to open the door for me. It's unnecessary, but I appreciate the gesture, and he smiles at me and holds his arm out for me to link mine through, which I do without thinking. I hope I'm forgiven, for now at least. I want to enjoy my night, and I don't want both of us to be constantly on edge.

"Try not to fall over." he says to me quietly, and I laugh softly.

"I'll try and be careful." I see a woman waving at me and realise it's Irene and I smile and veer Christian towards her. She's on her own and looks a little disappointed that I'm not. We started at the paper at similar times so I started going to these events at the same time she did, just after I returned from my time in London, and we usually end up spending most of our time together as neither of us ever brings a date. Until now.

"Hello!" she says brightly. Irene's Australian and still has a very thick accent even though she's lived here for quite a few years now. She kisses my cheek and grins at me, pushing her wavy golden hair away from her eyes. "You look so beautiful! Who is this on your arm, Ana?"

"This is Christian Grey, he's a business man. He owns GEH." I explain to her. She smiles even brighter and nods.

"I thought I recognised you. I'm sure I've seen you in magazines… Weren't you interviewing him last week?" I nod and she turns to Christian. "Hi, I'm Irene, I work with Ana. I would say it's a pleasure but you've kind of stolen my date, we usually end up together at these things since we both usually come solo." I wonder if Christian might not like her talking so familiarly with him, but he seems okay.

"It's lovely to meet you too." he says, and she laughs. I say laughs. Irene has a rather distinctive cackle.

"We'll see you inside, okay?" I know she'll want to have a cigarette before she comes in to all the formality, and she winks at me before we head inside. I realise what she thinks about the two of us showing up together. It doesn't bother me much, although I'll correct anyone who thinks we're together, but I worry it might start to piss Christian off a little.

The venue is gorgeous of course, and as soon as we're inside both of us are bombarded by attention, me from co-workers and him by people he could potentially do business with I imagine. I slip off to go and talk to other people and promise that I'll try and find him before dinner so he doesn't have to spend the whole evening being bored. He seems satisfied with this and doesn't complain at all about me going. As soon as I let go of Christians arm another slips in to place and I look up and realise Irene has joined me, claiming me as her date now I've briefly abandoned mine. She guides me over to where all the journalists are stood in their little clique-like huddle.

"Ana brought a date!" she exclaims loudly, and suddenly everyone is asking questions.

"It's not a date type date, it's a neither of us had anyone to come with and we're friends type date. I had to stop attending these things with Irene eventually." They seem satisfied with this on the whole, though I do get the occasional question from Ian, who we all recognise as our official office gossip. All the years of getting the latest gossip from celebrities and people like Christian Grey has bled through in to his real life.

"Come here, Ana, there are people I must introduce you to." my boss Theresa tells me, and I go with her gladly.

"I think Theresa is about half ready to kill Jared, he is so late!" Irene says gleefully when I'm done networking. The two of them don't get on very well which I find hilarious as does everyone else in the office. "I mean he's an idiot but who shows up late to something like this, you know?"

"Maybe there was back traffic?" I suggest. Tonight really isn't the night to get her all fired up guns blazing about what an idiot Jared is. It's far too formal an occasion. We'll probably have to keep them away from each other and then let them have it out on Monday.

Christian comes over about half an hour in, finally having been able to make it away from various other important people. I introduce him to everyone and he seems to be acting perfectly nice to them. Apart from our brief altercation in the car on the way over here, we seem to have done pretty well. I'm certainly having a good evening so far.

After Christian goes off again I am discussing the possible expansion of my column to a full page weekly in the paper where I talk about more events with Theresa. I'm trying very hard to stay calm and professional but I've wanted this for a long time, and it's one step further in to her good books and therefore a step further in to a recommendation to take over as editor when she eventually leaves. I know she wants to retire in the next five years, so I don't have long to make a good impression, but I'm up for the challenge. It's coming to things like this outside of work that really helps my chances.

Irene very impatiently taps my shoulder until I excuse myself from the conversation and lead her away.

"What is it? Hurry up, I'm doing really well with Theresa tonight already. I hope I'm near enough her on the table that I can continue this. She wants to give me a whole page weekly in the paper."

"Ana that's just it, you're not at our table. I just checked the seating, some guy called Robert is sat where you're supposed to be. It doesn't make any sense because I checked with you on Thursday when you came in to work and you were definitely there then and you got in so obviously you're on the list, I just don't understand why they've moved you when the seat you bought was at our table."

"Oh God, this is a nightmare!" I'm trying to keep calm. I am not doing well at all. "I was doing so well with her too, she's never going to let me have any larger responsibilities if I'm not even bothering to sit at your table! Where's the table listing? Maybe if I complain now I can get it switched back?"

"Over here." She leads me to a board which I missed completely on the way in. I scan it quickly – tables sixteen and seventeen are journalists. I'm supposed to be at sixteen, but Irene's right, I'm not there, but nor am I at table seventeen. I read down every single list until I get to number nine and finally see my name. I'm across the room completely from people I'm supposed to be talking to all evening. I need to find someone and fix it as soon as possible, or at least that's the plan before I look down the list properly.

James Carter, Madeline Belfort, Anastasia Steele, Christian Grey.

I'm not sure what the appropriate volume for saying 'fuck' at a charity gala is but I think I exceeded it. Several times.

"Found yourself? On the seating chart, not in the philosophical way. That's a whole other discussion." I do not appreciate her attempt to lighten the mood.

"Where the hell is Christian?" I demand. I feel bad for taking it out on her but I want to scream at him. Loudly. For a very long time. Looking a little scared, Irene points to him. I'm not really one for making a scene, so I'm relieved he's only talking to a couple of people. I walk over quickly and try not to look too much like I want to kill him.

"Christian, I need to talk to you now." I wait until they've all stopped talking because we're with company and etiquette matters somewhere like here, no matter how much of a dick your non-date has decided to be.

I put my hand around his wrist a little too tightly and pull him along quickly behind me, marching outside with him. There's no-one out there now, so I don't have to worry about people judging me. It crosses my mind that I should leave it alone, but I can't bring myself to. I'm too angry, and he needs to know that doing things like this are definitely not okay with me under any circumstances.

"Did you change where I was sitting?" I ask him. I'm not yelling yet, because on the very slim chance it wasn't him then yelling would be uncalled for.

"I thought you'd want me to. Because we came together."

"Do not try and act like this is something you did for my benefit, it was selfish. I told you that there are important people here that I need to speak to and you moved me across the fucking room from them just so you wouldn't have to be bored all evening! This isn't even just crossing boundaries anymore; you had no right to do that!" With every word I get a little louder. I think he is genuinely confused by how angry I am and it annoys me even more that he can't understand why I might be upset by this because he can't see that he's done anything wrong. "Do you realise how this could potentially set back my career? I was just in there talking to my boss about how I could get a promotion and, her words 'We'll discuss it over dinner, except wait, we can't do that unless we shout across the room to each other because you decided to do something completely stupid and selfish."

"I really don't understand why you're upset."

"Are you kidding me, I've just given you a list of reasons why I am and you still think what you did was okay? Just go inside. I need some air, and I need to be on my own. Or with anyone who isn't you."

He looks at me coldly before he goes in and I lean against the wall with my head in my hands, still fuming, and not having shouted quite loud enough to make myself feel better about any of it. In my eyes I'm not being unreasonable at all; he is the unreasonable one, shown by him doing what he did.

"Bad night already?" I look up to see Jared from work stood there. He looks as dishevelled as usual, but like someone managed to force him in to a tuxedo anyway. His bowtie is crooked, and despite everything I smile.

"Yeah my friend, or so I thought somehow managed to switch my seats. At a charity gala where I literally bought my seat. I have no idea how, but I'm pissed off. I was supposed to be talking glowingly about myself to Theresa all night."

"Irene and I can work together for once and do that for you. Come inside. It's a while till we have to sit down, you can definitely get some extra 'I'm awesome' time in before dinner."

* * *

**AN: I just want to make it clear that Ana is supposed to be being unreasonable here. She went with Christian, wore the dress he gave her, and I intentionally didn't have her mention to Christian that it was important to her that she sat where she was supposed to. What Christian did should come off as a nice gesture, just one that completely backfired. This is basically Ana's subconscious screaming at her to put him off in anyway she can because on some level she realises that he wants more from her than friendship and she's scared of that. I promise not to have defensive Ana last too long because honestly it's a pain to write, but for what I have planned later to make sense we're all just going to have to struggle through.**


	10. Ten

"Do you think you might be being a little bit unreasonable?" Irene asks after I've finally been persuaded back inside by Jared. "I mean, to me it sounds like you're blowing a little hot and cold with this guy. I'm sure it's unintentional, but maybe you should ease up on him" Her and Jared have me off to the side and have finally gotten me a little calmer. They keep exchanging looks and trying to talk to me, for once getting along. The fact I am calmer has very little to do with this. It has quite a lot to do with the fact they put a glass of champagne in my hand and swiftly replaced it when I drank it. In one sip.

"Ana?"

"Gemma!" I exclaim when I look up and see who it is. "You'll be on my side. Tell them that Christian's being the unreasonable one, not me." She looks confused and immediately I fill her in on all the details. As always she listens and doesn't interrupt.

"Well okay. It sounds like he's being a little intense for someone you just met but by the wearing the dress you're showing that you can cherry pick the parts of that which you like and that's probably confusing for him. He probably genuinely thought he was doing a nice thing by moving you to sit with him, showing that he'll go out of his way to try and spend time with you. And if your boss is going to give you a promotion, surely it will be on merit, not whether you sit with her or not. I mean you always do this, Ana." I look at her, taking the third glass of champagne away from my lips to speak. I push one of the loose curls away from my face and look down. I can't quite bring myself to meet her eyes even though I am sure I am still in the right. Okay, less sure than I was at first, but pretty sure. Like sixty percent.

"No, you're supposed to be on my side!" I complain, draining the glass. I see a look pass between Jared and Irene, silent wonder as to whether they should give me another one and hope I'm a little more reasonable after they do. Even though I'm not currently being unreasonable. I'm fifty percent sure, and that's still pretty sure. "And what do you mean I always do this? Do what? I'm not doing anything!"

"Ana you always push men away if you think they're interested in anything other than clear cut friendship, whether you're interested in them or not. You are a lovely person with several often very endearing faults but when you get like this you blow things out of proportion, your sarcasm and the bitterness and they completely take over until even the most patient and understanding of men could no longer conceive of having a relationship with you." I'm not sure I have the energy to argue with her. I'm not even sure I know what my argument would be if I tried to.

"I don't do that." It's quiet but firm. I want her to drop it.

"Okay, well it's time to go and sit down now, so you're going to have to suck it up. And be nice to him, don't sit there being a bitch all evening. I'm at the table next to yours and I am not afraid to lean over and pull your hair if you are." She takes my arms and starts to lead me over.

"Why are you here, anyway?" I ask her as we walk.

"The guest speaker dropped out, and they knew I was in town. I've done a bit of work for the charity before so they asked me if I was free. Erin's visiting her family and they don't exactly like me, so I figured it was the perfect excuse not to go."

"Well, have a nice evening."

"I'm sure I'll have a lovely time, as will you if you try and be nice."

"You know you're still wrong about me trying to push him away." I have to say it in case I don't get the chance again. She rolls her eyes at me exasperatedly.

"I'm always right. You're definitely doing that, just like you do with every guy who likes you as something more than a friend. I mean, I know you think your relationships don't work out because you work too much, but when you're not in relationships you work a lot less, it's like you subconsciously have to put them off in every way you possibly can."

"He doesn't like me that way. He just doesn't know how to be a friend."

"No, of course he doesn't." she says, rolling her eyes. "Have a nice evening, Ana."

I take my seat before Christian has even arrived at the table. Everyone there seems perfectly nice, they all introduce themselves and talk to me despite the fact I clearly do not own, nor do I know anything about business.

Gemma is sat directly behind me and when Christian eventually joins us at the table and sits down after introducing himself and shaking the hands of a few people. She turns around and seeing us in silence she tugs on my hair just like she promised she would, indicating I should say something to him. I have no idea what I'm supposed to say though.

"Christian, I…" He cuts me off immediately by shaking his head.

"Don't Anastasia, not here. We can talk about this later." If at all possible he sounds even colder and angrier than he did earlier. He's probably just waiting until we get out of here before he yells at me and storms off, ending our friendship forever and never seeing me again. Maybe it's for the best. Clearly he has no idea how to handle himself like this and I for once in my recent years am quite willing to admit that I'm out of my depth. I don't like not knowing where I stand with people; it makes for a lot of confusion.

Really, I can't decide whether or not I'm angry about the brush off remark but there's no way in hell I'm going to make a scene here. I can yell just as loud at him later as he will inevitably yell at me.

I feel, for the briefest of moments, a little bad about blowing up at him. Even though I'm still forty percent sure it was justified.

I eat in relative silence, only speaking when spoken to and for as little time as I can manage. I really don't want to piss Christian off even more than I've already managed to, and I'm probably going to do just that. I keep glancing over to him but he never looks at me, not that I notice.

Even if I was in the right there was a better way of going about it. This is turning out to be an awful night, not helped by the fact Gemma just keeps looking at me and sighing. I can only imagine what Kate would say if she were here. Actually Kate would probably be glad that I'm 'pushing him away' or whatever it is that Gemma thinks I'm doing exactly being as even before we were friends she decided I should keep away from him.

I know I'm biting my lip nervously and I'm praying that it's not going to start bleeding. I don't have enough hair free to be twisting it around my fingers, so this will have to suffice. I'm focussing on not looking completely awkward.

"So, Ana, you wrote an article about Christian didn't you? I read the other day, that was you, yes?" A woman at our table asks. I nod. For the life of me I can't remember this woman's name and it's making me nervous that I have to speak to her.

"Yes, I interviewed him just over a week ago."

"She usually writes more interesting things but her colleague was ill so she had the pleasure of meeting me." Christian interjects. I look up and catch his eye and smile weakly. He doesn't smile but his eyes are a little less cold than before. I'm not sure I'm forgiven yet, but I think he's at least a little less angry.

"It was a good article. You're a skilled writer." she says. I nod, still a little worried that I might be required later to remember her name. Christian suddenly leans in very close to me and moves a strand of hair away from my face. I'm screaming internally.

"Her name's Jeanette." he whispers very softly, and I relax, suddenly realising why he's doing it. I'm not sure what I thought that was. Not that.

He says nothing more to me for the rest of dinner, but knowing he's a little less angry with me now I feel like I can talk to people. I try and tone down the sarcasm I'm so accustomed to, which contrary to what Gemma says is not defensive. It's just how I am. I have no patience for most people and can never seem to resist having a little dig at them.

Not long after dinner Gemma gives her speech, an incredibly moving affair after which the dancing begins and people begin circulating again. Christian gets up to talk to someone from another table, and, seeing that Theresa's busy, I figure that I may as well stay put. Gemma returns to her seat and we turn around so we're facing each other and seeing that I'm in a better mood, Jared and Irene come over. They're snapping at each other as usual, but as so often happens at events like this they're clearly silently planning on hooking up later so it's dulled down from what it usually is. They seem to be getting along pretty well with Gemma, although I know Irene's trying not to scream, because she's a huge fan.

"You know after this we're going to go to bar, do you want to come with us?" Jared offers. I wonder if I should. I think Christian's planning on talking to me on the way home, but I never go out with people from work. It could be good.

"I'll see how I feel."

"How about you Gemma?" Irene offers and Jared and I immediately exchange looks. She glares at us and we shrug innocently and in sync.

"I'd love to!" Gemma says brightly, and Irene looks very proud of herself. "I might actually call Erin and see if she wants to join us. She probably will, she's spent the evening with family, she's going to need a drink." I feel like I might be in need of a drink too. Maybe if he starts speaking to me again I can invite Christian and then it won't look like I'm abandoning him to avoid the inevitable argument, but also I don't want it to feel like I'm asking his permission. Why does everything with him have to be the most difficult thing ever?

"Anastasia, may I borrow you for a minute? I'll return her to you all soon." Christian says, having suddenly appeared behind my seat. His hands rest behind my head on the chair.

"Yeah, of course you can." I get up quickly and follow him away. I don't turn back. I'm sure Jared and Irene are already quizzing Gemma in case she knows more details about the two of us than I have told them. It makes me tired just to think about it. I think if they do meet her tonight both of them will get on very well with Erin.

"So can I have a dance or are you still too angry with me?" he asks. I can't even look up to meet his eyes but I'm pretty sure he's smirking.

"I thought you'd be too pissed off at me to ask."

"I was for a while, but I don't think there's much point in holding things like that against you, not for the entire evening anyway. I think I made you feel bad enough. You don't realise how much you infuriate me."

"You and the rest of the world. I'm surprised you've tolerated me for this long." We arrive at the dance floor, packed already with couples dancing, and he waits just a moment until the song changes before he takes my waist and pulls me close to him. I wonder how many people have had the pleasure of realising what an excellent dancer Christian Grey is first hand. I can't imagine it's something he does a lot with many people.

"I'm surprised I've tolerated it too, but then here we are nonetheless." I smile, focussing on trying to match his movements. He's leading well, which is lucky because I am clearly not the most graceful person in existence, and if I had an equally terrible partner we would probably end up knocking in to most other couples and injuring ourselves quite badly.

Our eyes meet in mutual understanding that, if I want to talk to him without being screamed at, which I really do, now is probably the time to do it. I started and spoke quickly before I could think the better of anything I was saying.

"Christian, I know I really should have handled that whole thing better; I know that, I just… I hate the idea of someone making decisions for me. Every movement I have made over the last five years has been calculated as something to exert my independence and you doing that, it felt like you were undermining it."

"I know I should have asked; I'm just not used to having to. But I swear I have never and would never let anyone else speak to me like that."

"I'm not your employee; I should be able to speak however I like to you."

"If we really are friends like you keep insisting then surely you shouldn't be acting like that, surely that earns me at least a little respect which you certainly did not show me tonight. " I know I should probably be apologising, but then again he probably should be too. We're both ridiculously stubborn clearly and neither of us is going to budge any further than admitting we might have been slightly in the wrong. "I really didn't think it would upset you, I didn't realise how important it was for you to be around your boss, although I probably should have being as I've been networking all evening too. But you kept complaining about how boring everyone was and I thought I'd be doing you a favour."

"Just ask me next time."

"Next time? Are we really anticipating that there will be a next time?"

"I hope so. I mean, if you don't completely hate me then I'd like to keep being your friend. I think we could both use one right now." He nods and spins me around slowly before he brings me back in close to him, reminding me of the other night. I wonder if he's thinking about that too. He looks deep in thought about something. I'd ask but I'm not quite sure I want to know what it is he's thinking about. The music quietens slowly, and the song changes. He lets me go as soon as it does and veers me off the dance floor.

"I've actually been invited out by some of my friends for after this, I thought I'd better invite you along with us."

"Anastasia, it took Elliot months of pestering me before he got me to go with him to that club we met each other in the other day, please don't take it personally that I would much rather decline your invitation than go with you."

"I don't, I just thought it would be impolite to disappear on you without inviting you along with us."

Christian comes and spends the rest of the evening with us, and actually takes me up to dance twice more. I feel like he must have forgiven me. He's certainly not treating me half as coldly as he was just a couple of hours ago, and I'm grateful for that. I also dance with Irene a number of times and Gemma a few. Jared offers but he's as clumsy as I am so I politely decline. I'm sure we'll do a duet when I predictably get drunk at the bar later to make up for not dancing together. Erin has also been on the phone and is very much looking forward to joining us when we get there. We leave at about twelve thirty, a little before we're supposed to so it's not too busy outside. Christian, deciding he's had enough of making polite conversation elects to come out with us and summons his waiting driver with a text.

The others have all gone round to get the car while I wait for Christian's car to arrive for him and they're picking my up from the front of the hotel. I worked out that it's Irene who's drawn the short straw and is now our designated driver.

"I really am sorry about earlier. I know I overreacted."

"How many glasses of champagne did it take for you to swallow your pride and finally apologise to me?" He's smirking, he obviously doesn't mind. I glare, definitely not above taking the apology back if he annoys me. "I'm teasing you. I'm sorry too. I'll try not to do anything that will upset you so much again." I wonder just how much alcohol it took for him to swallow _his _pride. I'm guessing he admits he's in the wrong and apologises even less than I do.

His car pulls up and we say goodbye. Without thinking about it too much I pull him in for a quick hug, because if anyone could use a hug it's probably him. I'm just pulling away when he stops me from going much further. Our eyes meet for a little too long and he leans in to me.

This kiss he gives me is soft and quick, and honestly I wonder for a few moments after we part if it actually happened or not. He smiles at me and gets in to his car without saying anything to me, no explanation of why that just happened at all. I wait until he's driven in to the distance before I start silently freaking out, eyes wide. Three hours ago he was barely speaking to me because I had pissed him off so much and then he goes and does that! Clearly the boundaries talk went right over his head because obviously that was not okay.

And it's even worse because now I have to admit Gemma was right all along.

I have no idea how anyone could like me after being treated like that or really why anyone would like me in the first place. All I know is that by the time the others pull up in the car my eyes are the size of saucers, still shocked.

"Where to?" Irene asks brightly.

"Anywhere with an abundance of alcohol!" I answer a little too brightly. Gemma turns to me from her seat in the front, eyes questioning, but I just smile at her.


	11. Eleven

"Another round!" I announce loudly. Erin cheers, as does Jared. Irene laughs, but since the strongest thing she's had all evening is orange juice I really can't expect her to do much else. Gemma just looks at me with eyes full of concern. I've been doing my best to ignore these looks all evening, and the drunker I get the easier this seems to become.

It's about half past one in the morning and I've been drinking pretty steadily since we got to the bar. It's probably not the healthiest or most productive way of dealing with things I regret, but it's the easiest one to hand so it's the one I'm going to try and hope succeeds.

"You have to slow down!" Irene exclaims, but Erin presses a finger to her lips.

"No, shh, Ana's finally started to be fun; she was so dull the other night with her only one mojito rule! I'll buy us all another round Ana, I got your back. I'll bring some shots too, that'll lighten some people up." She looks pointedly at Gemma who has to smile I grin at her as she gets up and saunters over to the bar cheerfully, crashing in to only six people on the way, which is an improvement on last time she got up. I might have had four glasses of champagne before I got here but I'm pretty sure Erin's had at least twice that. Her family aren't exactly supportive of her sexuality or career choice but insist that she comes to see them every six months, as though they can't just let her be happy. Being the genuinely nice and unfortunately weak-willed person she is she hasn't put a stop to this yet even though it makes her miserable. She was probably even worse this time because Gemma managed to avoid going with her, which is a shame because she could have done with the support.

"Ana…" Gemma says warningly, but I just reach over and ruffle her hair.

"Gemma…" I say in the same dull, disapproving tone. She hasn't worked out what's wrong yet but I'm sure it's only a matter of time, and when she does I want to be as drunk as possible so I don't remember the lecture she will predictably give me.

And I want to be drunk enough that I forget that I might be lying to myself when I say I completely regret what just happened with Christian.

I gladly take my mojito and two tequila shots when Erin comes back. I down both shots first before I get started on the mojito. I feel like I need something stronger but if they don't already they'll definitely know something's up when I start rejecting mojitos.

"You know we should do this more often!" I exclaim, and Jared agrees, as does Irene. Erin pouts and I frown. "What's wrong with you?"

"I live far away I'd have to fly in every time you go for a night out." She's had enough to drink that she's emotional, and she sounds like she's going to start crying. I feel really sad too. I love Erin, I don't want her to leave.

"I wish you didn't live far away." I say sadly.

"Oh God, you two need to stop now, you've clearly had way too much." Gemma says exasperatedly, having now apparently run out of patience for the both of us, and we exchange sad looks. I can't believe she doesn't understand how hard it is for us living so far away and only seeing each other like, never. It's so sad.

"On the contrary, we haven't had nearly enough." I'm pretty sure I won't have had enough until I can forget how good it felt to kiss Christian. It wasn't even a proper kiss, well, it certainly marked me as more than a friend, I think at least, I'm not quite sure now but that might just be because I've drunk a lot and I'm having trouble distinguishing thoughts, but it's certainly not the kind that I should still be thinking about nearly an hour later. Every time I do I just feel like I need another drink.

I wonder if he's going to want to talk about it or if he'll act like nothing happened. Or if he'll even want to see me again. But he did smile when he was walking away which has to be a good sign? Maybe I should call. Probably not now, he'll just be all judgemental because I went out and got drunk. Which wasn't entirely to do with him, but quite a bit. But if I call then maybe he'll come and see me and we can kiss again. It probably won't help me clear my head but I definitely wouldn't be complaining. Even though I'm pretty sure I'll regret it entirely in the morning. I keep telling myself to get a grip. I've kissed people before. Why should Christian Grey be any different to the rest of them?

I try and take my mind off things by focussing on anything else. I take my hair down from the up-do I styled it in before I left and twirl it around my fingers. None of us really had time to change before we came to the bar, so I am still in the ridiculously expensive and beautiful dress he gave me. Gemma's is even less appropriate, it's black with a hooped skirt and she could barely sit down with it at dinner, let alone now. She looks gorgeous though; it's one of the only times I've seen her dress formally, and it's only times like this you can really tell she's an actress or does anything glamorous. She usually looks so casual.

Erin takes Jared and Irene off to dance. I try to go with them but Gemma grabs my hand and I sit back down again. I'd usually protest a little, but she's definitely not in the mood for me to be difficult.

"You have about ten minutes until one of them passes out, so tell me everything, leave nothing out, and cut the bullshit." I like scary Gemma a lot less than normal Gemma.

"Why are you so sure that something's wrong with me?"

"Because I'm good at picking up on these things and subtlety is not one of your strong suits, especially when you're drunk. Now tell me what happened between us going to get the car and us coming to pick you up. Did Christian yell at you? Did you deserve it? Be honest because, I love you, but you probably did."

"No, he didn't yell at me."

"Then what was it Ana, because you have been acting even weirder than usual?"

"He kissed me." My voice is emotionless, holding back in case I give something away that I don't want to. Not that I want to tell her any of this. I just feel like if I can talk to anyone then it's her, and besides, she'll keep pestering me if I don't. "And it wasn't for very long or even really a proper kiss but I think I kissed him back." I don't meet her eyes because I know she'll be gloating silently about being right and I'm not going to give her the satisfaction of me noticing even though clearly I know it's happening.

"And you're upset?"

"Yes, but not because he kissed me." I'm still refusing to look up at her. Her voice hasn't taken on a gloating tone yet, and I'm thankful for that.

"Because you enjoyed it?" I nod almost unperceivably, knowing that if I put anything in to words I will say far too much and won't be sure how much of it I really mean, or how much I'm ready to admit to myself. I think I've said and admitted to quite enough for one evening. If she wants anymore then I'm going to need another drink. "Ana…" I'm not sure she knows how to continue. "How do you feel about him?"

"I don't know."

"You want to hear it from where I stand?" I nod, because her perspective can't hurt even if it's entirely wrong. "I think you liked him right from the start, that's why you were nervous around him. You slightly started to accept that after all the emails when you talked to me in the club that night, which meant something because you'd usually never do that. Then, there were hints that he might like you back which is why you stopped potentially liking him and insisted that you were friends because even though you wanted him around you were scared because if you liked each other then something might happen, which would mean opening up to him. You purposefully make your relationships fail so you don't have to. After it carried on you got defensive and angry which explains earlier tonight and it took something which came as a little bit of a shock to break you out of it which I think Christian knew. He also knew not to push you too far which is why there was no big passionate kiss, just enough to make him stick in your head and make you want more. How am I doing so far?"

Honestly, I had no idea if she was right or not. It certainly made sense from the outside, but planned as it might have seemed, none of what I was doing had been conscious, although it did seem to explain a lot.

"It makes sense." I admitted, and she grinned.

"Clearly he feels something for you. I'm not sure how strongly, but there's definitely something. The way he looks at you… It's adoring almost, and I couldn't make sense of it tonight because he should have hated you for how awfully you behaved and he didn't."

"That's all well and good, but what if I really don't feel anything for him?"

"Well I'm not surprised you're confused, quite frankly. Ana you block these feelings off, especially with people who might return them and on the off chance you do let them in you always go for the most ill-suited guys and give yourself excuses for the relationship not to work out. After so long of denying any feelings at all now you actually have them it's driving you crazy which is why you're so emotional and drinking like crazy. The first one you can't help, but the second one you can and it's not going to help you anyway."

"Hold on, who said anything about feelings? I just admitted that I enjoyed kissing him."

"Ana, I've known you four years. In all that time there's never been anyone you cared about, not romantically, am I correct?"

I think about every boyfriend I've had over the time she's known me. I met her when Erin took me out after work one night because she thought I never had any fun. Gemma was just her girlfriend then. I hadn't had a boyfriend or even a one night stand for a year since everything had happened. The same night I met Gemma was the same night I met Chase, a bartender. We dated four months before he told me he loved me. I broke up with him immediately. During the time I was with him, Gemma and Erin had gotten engaged and Erin had moved to LA. My first trip down there was when I met Neal, an actor friend of Gemma's. We weren't really together as such but we enjoyed hooking up for the two weeks I was there. I then had a long dry spell before I moved to London, where I met Patrick, a journalist whose paper I was staying with while I was there. We were together six months before I had to move home. I let him say 'I love you' but never said it back. He never minded. I then went through a string of one night stands when I got home before I got bored of that. Since I stopped, I've dated three guys, Michael, Isaac, and Joe. None of them lasted more than two months. I haven't dated or even slept with a guy in five months and I don't miss it. I don't miss pretending to care about people who genuinely care about me or the overwhelming feeling that if I'm not immediately in love with a guy then I'm leading him on and wasting his time. I don't miss finding excuses not to open up to them or trying to explain why I won't let people touch or even see my arms and wearing shirts that open during sex to avoid it. I don't miss not trusting the men I'm supposed to and I definitely don't miss kicking them out of my apartment after we fucked so I don't have to be intimate in a way that involves romance.

"No." I answer slowly, not sure how long I've been thinking and how long I've been zoned out remembering. "There's never been anyone I cared about."

The thought makes me sad and I'm not sure why. If I'm honest with myself, even though I say a man in my life would be nice, I don't want one. It complicates things in a completely unnecessary way.

"Well, you didn't act around them the way you do with Christian. I haven't seen you care about a man before and I might be wrong, but if someone asked me how I imagined you'd behave when you genuinely felt something romantic for another person, I would have described something a lot like what you're doing with him."

"You know you know me a lot better than Erin." I say with a weak half smile. She returns it and shrugs nonchalantly in a way that is very unlike her.

"I just pay more attention."

Everyone comes back very suddenly. Erin's twisted her ankle, and I roll my eyes but satisfied the conversation with Gemma is over, I go with Irene and Jared up to where they were dancing before. I'm have managed to miss completely that it's karaoke night, but I'm elated when I realise, and one more mojito has me drunk enough to be up on that stage singing Raise Your Glass by Pink, being cheered on and filmed by all my supposed friends. Oh great, I suppose I'm ending up on YouTube. Again.

The singing unfortunately does not end there. No, I make sure I do a duet with each and every one of my friends before we leave, and sneak a couple more drinks in between songs. By the time Irene drops me home I'm exhausted but smiling.

I don't wake up until half eleven. I'm thankful that it's a Sunday because I would not be able to go in to work like this. My head is killing me and I'm still so tired. I feel sick and anything I eat is definitely going to make me sick.

Like I always do when I have a hangover I drag myself through to my living room and lie down on the sofa, still wearing my pjs and not intending to get out of them. I'm not sure when I changed, but I don't really remember much from after we left the bar, just a lot of loud, slurred voices in the car. Even Gemma let herself get hammered last night, and she's usually very reserved. I put Gone With The Wind on because it's my hangover movie even though I never pay attention. It doesn't matter; I've seen it over a hundred times, I know it off by heart pretty much.

When I feel less sick I managed to eat a couple of slices of toast and decide to check my phone. It's been off all day. I have a lot of messages apparently.

_Hope you enjoyed your time out with your friends. We have to talk soon, Anastasia. –CG_

Hey, I'm not even bothered that he wants to talk to me, I'm just impressed he bothered to write out my entire name in a text message. It seems a very Christian-esque thing to have done. There are several others which I read through in turn.

_Ana! Video of you and I singing Stronger by Kelly Clarkson already has fifty thousand views! Yes because I'm in it but you should feel proud too! – Erin_

_Hey Ana, sorry that the video of us singing What Makes You Beautiful went even more viral than the video of you and Erin. She put it up, not me. Have fun with your newfound fame! – Gemma_

_We haven't spoken in ages! Give me a call when you can! –Kate_

_Those videos of you that Erin put up are hilarious. She is my new favourite person. –Irene_

_You need to keep me away from Irene when I'm drunk. I think we might be dating by accident now. Loved the videos of you by the way. – Jared_

_Ana, those videos are hysterical. –Elliot_

_Ana, did I just watch a video of you singing a duet of OUR song with Erin? You know I hate her! –Kate_

_Elliot just sent me a video of you singing. Good to know you had a nice time. –CG_

_You're probably hung-over but I'm going to call you later. –CG_

_Change of plan, I think I'll come over. Just text and let me know it's okay. –CG_

Finally done reading through the messages I sigh. Should I tell Christian just to leave it for another day? I'm not exactly feeling up to him screaming at me, and that's really the only response to what happened that I now, in my finally sober state, can see as being possible. He'll probably blame me for what happened and leave and never want to talk to me again which is why he couldn't do it over the phone.

On the other hand the texts he sent me were jovial and he didn't sound pissed off, but then again they weren't flirtatious, just friendly. The way up until last night was the only way I wanted him to be with me. Now, reading them each again in turn I can't help but feel a little disappointed. Then again after so little happened last night could he really have done much in the way of texting me without coming off a little presumptuous? I know I'm thinking this through far too much, but the conversation I had with Gemma is still making my head spin. I have no idea if I like Christian Grey, because honestly, I have no idea what it feels like to like someone properly. Of course I was attracted to all the men I dated and slept with but I feel like they were different. They could never have understood how changeable I am and I never would have trusted any of them enough to tell them about me. Christian knows how changeable I am and even if I don't trust him enough yet, I do trust him.

_Can you be here in an hour? –Ana._

_See you then. –CG_


	12. Twelve

AN: Since so many of you have requested I do a Christian chapter I decided to slot one in here. The next chapter will probably be Ana again just because I'd like to cover what both of them are thinking through this, but if you all like it then I'll do Christian again at some point soon.

* * *

**CHRISTIAN**

I read over her message again and again. I sent her a number of messages over the course of the day and wasn't sure if I'd get a reply to any of them. I realise what I did last night was pushing her, but that was the point.

Anastasia Steele is without a doubt one of the most complicated and confusing people I have met in my life. If anyone else behaved the way she did around me I would either fire them or severely punish them, and if I could do neither then I would simply have severed the acquaintance long ago. Try as I might though, I can't seem to keep away from her, and I don't want to.

When I saw her first I hoped I might have found my next sub. I've only had one since Sara, my ex-wife, left, Georgina, a brunette with blue eyes like all the rest. Neither of us were interested in anything more from each other and we parted amicably and only because she was offered a job as a chef in Paris. That was three months ago now, but since then I've not found anyone who caught my eye, not until Ana anyway. Through our first meeting she was nervous and I wondered if she might be persuaded, but I'm fairly sure now that she wouldn't be. She is far too strong-willed I think, and certainly not trusting enough to hand power over completely to someone else.

I don't want her as a sub anymore, but nor do I want a relationship with her. Tonight I will make that very clear to her, and I don't think she'll mind.

That doesn't mean I don't want her at all. I feel something for her, but it would be unfair to her to tell her that when I'm not sure what it is. It's not love, that much is obvious. I care about her in a way that makes me want her even though she'll never be my submissive.

Because I don't want a relationship I was determined to leave it until I had dinner with Kate and Elliot on Thursday evening. Kate talks about Ana a lot, probably because she doesn't see her a great del anymore and she likes to remind people that despite that they are still best friends.

Despite the fact that Ana wasn't there to defend herself, Kate was on a rant about her and her perpetual lack of a relationship. The last three, Kate was saying, had lasted under two months and Ana really hadn't been bothered about any of them. According to Kate, Ana shows little interest in being in a committed relationship, and really hasn't seemed too fussed about finding one for several years now. As far as she knows, Ana's longest relationship lasted six months while she was living in England and she had shown no remorse when she had come home. Of course to Kate, who has been married several years now and has for some reason come to the conclusion that everyone else should aspire to have the same picture perfect life that she apparently does, this is unacceptable. Ana, she insists, needs to be in a relationship with someone she can marry whether she likes it or not. After all, her children are getting older and who are they supposed to grow up with if her best friend doesn't have children? And likes she says, Ana's not getting any younger. She needs to snap up those men while they're still interested in her.

Of course I said nothing during this, as far as Kate knows I've met Ana only twice. Elliot knows a little more; he knows we're friends and nothing else.

Silently though, I was wondering if maybe I could have something with her without it being a fully-fledged relationship. Before I had thought she would mind if I wanted something from her without wanting a relationship, but the more I heard from Kate the more convinced I became that she wouldn't. In fact I think she'd be more bothered if I did want a relationship with her since she seems to have such an aversion to them.

I had to kiss her. Had to see if even after all the being angry at me she would accept that and kiss me back, and she did. I knew not to push her too far; some long passionate kiss would have been too much. I know when to go guns blazing in to something, and I also know when to approach it gently.

Had she freaked out I never would have tried again. She probably wouldn't have spoken to me again but I had to do it. I just had to see.

She didn't freak out. She did however go out and get very drunk after I left, which probably doesn't speak volumes about how she handles things. If she had been genuinely upset she would have yelled at me and stormed off. But she just stood there.

Perhaps there would have been other ways to approach the subject with her, but this seemed like the quickest and most effective. I just hope she hasn't changed her stance on her dislike of relationships, though she's so stubborn I doubt she ever changes her mind about anything. I was just going to go to her apartment this morning, but I realised that showing up unannounced would make her angry, so I just prompted her with a series of texts that I didn't think she would answer. When she did I debated saying I was busy this evening and telling her we would do this tomorrow, but leaving it hanging over my head while I'm supposed to be working doesn't seem like a good idea. Besides, I'm not sure she'll appreciate me telling her I can't come over after I've been pestering her all day.

I'm sat outside her apartment in my car, not wanting to be early but paranoid about being late, if only because either one of them will annoy her. I smile to myself wondering how hung-over she'll be after she went out with her friends after the gala last night. I watched the videos of her singing; Elliot sent them to me this morning. They were ridiculous and clearly she is incredibly irresponsible, but I've seen her so free and unabashed, looking genuinely at ease for once. Still not happy though. There are these almost unperceivable looks she wears sometimes and you can tell she isn't. Even when she smiles it always strikes me that on some deep subconscious level she isn't happy, and that she doesn't want to be. That maybe she's been unhappy for so long that she's forgotten that she doesn't have to be and doesn't quite know how to make it stop. I wonder how many other people look hard enough at her to notice. I wonder if even she does, or if she manages to convince herself that she's not happy, but at least content.

How much, I wonder, of that look will be due to me in about twenty minutes? Tonight, I not only explain to Ana what I want from her, but I tell her everything I can. I tell her I'm a Dom, and about Sara if she wants to know. Even if I don't want a real relationship with her, trust is still important to me. I need her to trust me at the very least, to know I'll be honest with her even if she can't or won't tell me about herself fully yet. Obviously the stuff about my childhood stays away from this discussion, and any others for as long as I can keep it away. I don't quite trust her that much yet, not enough to tell her.

Not even Sara knew that.

Another five minutes, I tell myself, just wait for that long and then go up.

Just in case I give it ten minutes and spend the entire elevator ride up there paranoid that it will break down and she'll be annoyed that I'm late. It doesn't and I walk down her hall and knock on her door.

She opens it almost immediately. Every time I see her I find it hard to believe how beautiful she is, and I'm reminded of opening the door to her the first time I met her in my office. Her eyes are the most beautiful powder blue, a haze of brown hair framing her face. Even though she has been confident and sure of herself every time I've met her, interview that she conducted excluded of course, there's always a hint of insecurity there for no reason I can deduce. She contemplates me for a minute, and I've grown accustomed to her doing so, just taking a moment when she sees me again after even a very short time, just standing and taking me in like she's trying to deduce if anything's changed in that very short amount of time, perceiving deeply all that she sees. It's only a moment before she smiles brightly and tells me to come in, stepping out of the way so I can walk in and shutting the door behind me quietly. I turn and stand, watching her. My eyes never move away from her.

"Come and sit down." Her tone isn't authoritative, not like if I had said something like that, it's just a suggestion she's phased as a command to give herself the illusion that she has any control over this situation.

I try very hard not to smirk and go to sit with her on the sofa she looks up at me, meeting my eyes for a second before she looks away.

She wants to say something, I can tell, but I think she worries that I'll be annoyed if she says the wrong thing. Since she pissed me off early last night she's been very careful about what she says and does around me, the streak only broken of course when I kissed her. That very brief kiss was the only time she's ever been anything which could be referred to as uninhibited around me.

"Just say what you're thinking Anastasia." Her eyes seem to darken, the way they often do when I give her a command or she's mildly annoyed. The look passes quickly, and still looking down she speaks.

"If you want a relationship from me, and please, don't take this as me assuming that you do, because I know you probably don't, but if you do then it's not something I can give to you. I really just don't do relationships, I much prefer just being by myself. I don't like letting other people in. So if that's why you're here, don't bother, please. I just had to make that clear before you say anything."

"Anastasia, that's not why I'm here," She looks relieved and smiles at me again, weakly, but it's still a smile. "I don't want a relationship with you, I'm barely out of my marriage and have no desire to be someone's boyfriend. With that in mind…" I could word it but that would be boring and difficult and Ana responds much better to physical demonstrations, as proved last night. This time I don't give her time to think before I pull her in close to me and crush her lips to mine. It's barely half a second before she starts kissing me back, more passionate, wanting and longer than last night. It's better, much better. This time she's had time to decide what she wants, and she might not want a relationship but she still wants me in some capacity. We seem to be on the same page with that, which I'm pleased about.

I let her go after what seems like a long time and she looks up at me, slightly breathless, blue eyes full of confusion. She looks a lot more innocent and lost than I've seen her before.

"You're kind of giving me mixed messages." As usual she is trying to make light of the situation so that she doesn't have to deal with it immediately. It might only delay it by a couple of seconds but it gives her time to process every possible explanation for an event and the appropriate response to each.

"No I'm not Anastasia."

"So what, you just want to sleep with me, get this over with and never see me again?"

"Think more permanent, Anastasia."

"So just sex but on a more permanent basis? Like friends with benefits." The irony of her insisting we were friends is clearly not lost on her and she smirks. Her eyes are far away, comprehending, but she doesn't look upset. She actually looks quite pleased at the prospect of it. "Those kinds of things never work, you realise that, right?" I decide not to answer. Of course the kinds of relationships which are just sex and no emotion have worked very well for me in the past but they all involved a contract. This won't involve any paperwork if I can help it, not even an NDA.

"Does that bother you?" She thinks for a minute, biting her lip. She does that all the time when she's deep in thought and it's ridiculously hot. Focus Grey, I tell myself. It's not easy with her around though. She better agree to this. I'm not sure how much longer I can go without fucking her.

"No. Nothing ever works out for me, it'll be quite refreshing to enter in to something I know is doomed from the start rather than having false hope."

"What made you so bitter?" I've asked it before I can think the better of it. She doesn't look angry, just thoughtful. She also doesn't immediately say 'nothing', which makes me think that there has been at least one significant event, if not more which has shaped who she is now. As she has such an aversion to romance and romantic relationships I wonder if it might have been something to do with that. Jilted at the alter? Cheated on repeatedly? Somehow I doubt it, if only because she strikes me as being too stubborn to let something like that entirely colour her opinion of relationships. Something bigger then. Perhaps her aversion to romance is entirely unrelated, and she just likes being on her own.

"Something which happened too long ago for me to dwell on it now. Don't ask me again." I know enough about requests like that to realise it's her equivalent of a hard limit.

"I won't." She looks like she believes me, and I honestly intend to keep the promise, not because I'm not interested or because I don't care, but because I respect that she doesn't want to tell me. She's probably not told more than a handful of people if she's this defensive about it and she may not have told any at all. "Look, Anastasia, there's something I need to tell you before you agree to have this with me."

"Okay, what?" I like how straight to the point she is.

"Usually I make people sign NDA's before I tell them this."

I want to not ask her for one, I really do, but it dawns on me that she's a journalist. Most people wouldn't know what to do with a dirty secret like that, or if they did then they'd be worried about doing it. While I fully believe it's not in her nature, Ana could very easily print everything I say, and since she's clearly respected in her field, she would probably be believed.

"You want me to sign a non-disclosure agreement?" She says it like it's the strangest thing I could possibly want from her. I forget sometimes that people can just live their normal lives and not need them. I've used them so frequently, both in business and in my BDSM contracts that it amazes me that other people can go their whole lives without ever encountering one or having to make one to protect themselves. "I mean I can, for your peace of mind but whatever it is you have to tell me… Who am I going to tell?"

"You are a journalist. I'm sure there's plenty of people you could tell." She clearly realise I have a point.

"Is a pinkie swear not enough these days?" I smirk and shake my head. "Well do you have one on you now?" I pull out my phone and tap a few buttons and explain that I've emailed it to her, and she disappears for a few minutes in to the room I remember is her bedroom to where she has her laptop and printer set up. She comes back with a copy, already signed.

"But I am reserving the right to tell the police if you're a murderer." she warns me, sitting back down, legs tucked under herself.

"Anastasia, did you even read this?"

"Yes, before I printed it out. I'm not the kind of idiot who just signs stuff unless they're online terms and conditions because who genuinely reads them?" I assume it's rhetorical and she's just babbling again. It's rather endearing. "It could basically do some serious damage if I break it which I've told you I don't intend to. Unless you're a murderer. Now if you still want to tell me whatever this is, then do."

Clearly she's getting impatient. Her inner journalist is showing, the side of her desperate for answers to any question that she comes across. I think for another moment or so. I'm not sure if I should be blunt or break it to her gently, not that I have any idea how I would go about doing that. Fuck. Being set up with subs is so much easier than this.

"I'm not quite sure how to word this." I tell her honestly, and through her curiosity she smiles understandingly.

"Just be blunt, that's how I always am."

"I'm a dominant, Anastasia. I'm in to BDSM with women and every single one I've been with, including my ex-wife, has been my submissive."

"Is that what you want me for?" She waited a long time before speaking, probably trying to choose the perfect question instead of bombarding me with five or six at once. She must have a million more but this is clearly the make or break. I wonder if I said yes if she'd do it.

"No, I don't. I have no idea why I don't, but I can't imagine you like that. I don't want a relationship for the first time I want something normal. Well, more normal than usual." She pushes her hair back and fixes her eyes on me, smirking and shaking her head. "What is it now, Anastasia?"

"Just wondering exactly who it is I've gotten myself involved with. Probably should have checked before I agreed, right?" I have no idea how she's being this understanding. I expected at least a minor, neurotic freak out but she's completely calm. Maybe it's me who should be wondering who he's gotten involved with.


	13. Thirteen

**ANA**

I'm not sure what I expected when Christian to tell me when he started to get all mysterious and insisted I signed the NDA which I know he thinks I didn't read, but I did, very carefully, I'm not exactly in the habit of signing things without reading them. It just definitely wasn't that. I'm glad it that on some level, it could have been a hell of a lot worse. I was pretty sure he wasn't a murderer, but there was always a slim chance.

Signing the NDA wasn't really a big deal for me. I had no intention of breaking his trust anyway but given the nature of what he told me I'm not surprised he asked me to sign. Something like that could ruin him, and given the nature of my job it would be even easier for me than most other people to get that information out there. At least this way he can ensure that even if I do release the information as much damage happens to me as it does to him. It seems fair enough, and I wouldn't do it anyway.

I've sent him to the kitchen to make tea for me. If he thought it was a joke when I said if he made my tea wrong I was backing out of our arrangement then he's sorely mistaken. Really though, I've just sent him in there so I can get my thoughts together. He was open with me, trusted me enough to tell me something he keeps very private, and here I am wondering how exactly to break it to him that he can't touch or look at my arms. I think in BDSM they call it a hard limit. I wonder if I should put it in those terms or just say it. Either way I'm not going to give him an explanation, which seems unfair even to me after he trusted me enough to tell me all that, but it's not because I don't trust him, it's because it's something which I can't take out of context, There's no cherry picking the details; if I want to tell him part of it then I have to tell him everything, and there's no way in hell I'm going to do that yet. I'm probably not going to do that ever, given that we are not in a relationship. Well, I suppose it's a type of relationship, just not the normal kind or the kind Kate would approve of me having.

Christian comes over and hands me my tea.

"Very nice!" I say after I take a sip. "You can definitely stick around."

I think it's passing unsaid that nothing's going to happen tonight, mostly because even if I've done rather a good job of making myself look presentable, it's quite clear I'm hung-over. My voice is a lot quieter than usual in case the headache comes back, and apart from tea and toast I feel too sick to eat and drink anything. It is late though, at least eleven. I wonder if he expects me just to let him stay over? I'm not sure I can consciously agree to have him sleep in the same bed as me, but at the same time it seems childish to insist he sleeps on the sofa. I mean, I'm sure he wouldn't think that or if he did then he wouldn't mention it. He knows that anything emotional is a no-go for me. That's why I literally greeted him 'Hi I don't want you to be my boyfriend if you want that then leave now please, okay?' when he arrived.

"Glad to know the tea I make meets your high standards."

"Okay before I chicken out there's something I need to tell you but it's not something I can explain to you. I need to just nod and say okay even if you're confused."

"I'm sure I can do that." he replies.

"When we inevitably have sex as that is going to be the backbone of… Whatever this is, I can't take my top off. The closest I can give you to that is wearing an open shirt. You can see all of my chest, that's fine, but you can't see and you definitely can't touch my arms. The closest you can get is the back of my shoulder or just above my wrist on my forearm."

"Anastasia, why was that something you were worried about telling me?"

"Because it's strange. Most people don't ask for things like that, or if they do then they probably provide an explanation."

"Have men had a problem with it in the past?" he asks. I nod.

"Yeah, quite a few think it's strange. One guy told me to just get over it so I kicked him out of my apartment and never saw him again. It's easier to explain to someone you know obviously, but even then they have problems with it sometimes."

"Don't worry, Anastasia, I don't mind. In fact I feel the same about people touching my chest although I don't have a problem with people seeing it." As there often is, a mutual understanding passes in a brief glance only between us.

"Are you staying tonight?" I ask suddenly. He chuckles and shakes his head.

"Anastasia, you have done a wonderful job of masking it but it is very clear you're hung-over, and if I couldn't tell from your demeanour then I would know anyway because there is no way you were sober or even close to it in those videos that Elliot sent me. I can't fuck you while you're like this, it wouldn't be fair."

"That's not what I meant, you know that."

"I didn't actually. Well as long as you promise not to freak out in the morning. You have previous when it comes to that." He assumes I want him to stay in my bed. Well, I figure I might as well get used to it; he's probably going to want to do that a lot more when we actually start sleeping together properly. Really, since he's done it twice already, the idea of Christian sleeping in the same bed as me doesn't bother me as much as it would if it were anyone else trying to do the same thing.

"I promise. I'll even make you breakfast."

"Sounds like a wonderful plan, I'd love to stay with you."

"Okay, well as you pointed out I am rather hung-over, so I'm going to go and take a shower and then I think I'm going to go to bed. You can stay up if you like." He nods and I kiss him softly before I get up and walk in to my bedroom to use the ensuite. As always I have the shower scalding hot. I'm more than used to having it like this now, and I stand under it until the water runs cold. I keep meaning to have a power shower fitted so I don't have to rely on my ridiculously small hot water tank. I change in the bathroom into a long shirt and a pair of soft shorts. I have real pyjamas but they're all ridiculously unsexy. I don't exactly look good in this, but it's better than anything with teddy bears on it. Even though it's probably unsafe I have my hair dryer in the bathroom, so I sit on the counter and dry it, brushing it through as I do to make it slightly more manageable and a little less insane than I know it can be if I leave it to dry naturally.

He's lying in my bed, once again having picked up Emma off my bedside table. I finished it a while ago and just haven't bothered to put it back yet. He looks like the most carefree Greek God ever to exist. He looks up as soon as he sees me coming in, and I climb up on to the bed beside him.

"If you don't want to sleep then feel free to leave the light on. I'm too tired for it to bother me." I say, my voice groggy. I lie on my side facing away from him and close my eyes. I feel his hand move in to my hair, stroking through it slowly. It's incredibly soothing, and I'm asleep within seconds of my head falling to the pillow. For once I wish I dreamt about normal things because I would have liked to dream about him. As it happened I dreamt that I lived on an island made of a Pop Tart and woke up with a real craving for them. I'm not sure they're a particularly healthy breakfast food, and I don't have any in the cupboard on account of the fact that I'm a grown woman who should, at nearly thirty years old, be cooking proper food for herself.

Thinking of food I realise how hungry I am. I'll have to pick up Pop Tarts on the way home from work, but I also really want waffles. Screw Christian if he doesn't like them. Who the fuck doesn't like waffles?

He's facing away from me with one arm draped over me and I slip out of bed easily enough. I retrieve my laptop from the desk and take it in to the kitchen, setting it up on the counter I won't be using so I can listen to some decent music. As I put Spotify on (which I would cite as one of the best things ever to be invented) I check my Facebook. I'm not a huge social media type person, so people tend to know not to contact me on that, but I check from time to time. I see Kate's put on a whole bunch of pictures of a family vacation to Barbados. They just arrived a couple of hours ago. Personally I don't see why people bother taking young kids on expensive holidays, not when they're of an age like Kate's are anyway and they're not going to remember it, but I know her and Elliot needed the break. I guess that's why she wanted to talk to me yesterday, to say goodbye before she left. I feel bad for having been so preoccupied recently. I haven't spoken to her since dinner with her and Christian.

I'm in the middle of an exceptionally good rendition of Gimme All Your Lovin' while I'm cooking when Christian comes in. Maybe I should be embarrassed but I just grin at him and continue with the singing, or humming when it comes to the parts I don't know.

"You woke me up." he complains and I pull a face at him. He's so grumpy in the morning.

"Well good morning to you too. One day I will meet someone who will appreciate my music talent and love me waking them up with my beautiful voice." I say in between singing and he shakes his head at me, but he's smiling, so obviously his feelings towards being woken up by my singing are both exasperation and endearment, which is what most people probably feel about me on a regular basis, so that's not too bad.

"Don't hold your breath on that one, Anastasia." I choose to ignore him.

"Breakfast's nearly ready anyway so it's a good thing you are awake. I hope you like waffles, and if you don't then you better pretend to and eat them anyway."

"Who the fuck doesn't like waffles?"

"I know right? I don't know. You're a bit odd, you might not have. Go sit down, I'll only be a couple more minutes."

He sits at the table I have in there, continuing reading Emma from where he left off last night when he eventually went to sleep. I look over to him occasionally smiling when he looks up at me. Despite my initial reservations I actually liked having him here last night. I wonder if he could be persuaded to stay again tonight.

When the food's cooked I bring it over. I turn the music down so he can talk to me if he wants to, though I'm comfortable enough with him now that extended periods of silence don't bother me.

"What is this music?" he asks before he takes the first bite.

"It's called We Didn't Start the Fire, seriously, how have you never heard this song? I mean what do people who don't like music even do with their time? How do you cook or clean?" I ask before promptly realising that he doesn't have to worry about that being as he has people to do all that stuff for him. Still, he lives by himself apart from the help and I doubt he associates with them frequently. It must be quiet in his apartment. Mine's like that too and I always have to have music or the TV on just to drown out the silence. I don't mind living alone on the whole, but it has a way of creeping up on me when I least want it to.

"I play music."

"What do you play?"

"The piano. Classical music only, of course." Pompous arse, but then again, it's hard to play anything else on a piano unless it's slow and boring. Maybe he should branch out in to the keyboard so I can try and make him learn some decent songs to play for me. "Sometimes I come up with my own compositions, but they're not very good. Actually they're pretty unbearable. No-one ever hears them but me though." I don't think it's false modesty. I think he honestly believes what he says.

"Now, I'm sure that's not true. I bet they're amazing."

"I'll play for you one day if you like. Not one of mine, a proper composition. That's how I usually deal with not being able to sleep and when I have nightmares, I go and play the piano."

It bothers me immensely that sometimes, what happened the other night when he was with me happens when he's on his own. That a lot of the time that happens and he wakes up with no-one there to comfort him, alone, unable to force himself back to sleep. I have this mental picture of him walking slowly in a dark apartment to his piano and sitting there playing for hours in the dark until the sun comes up. I'm sure in reality he never looks as lost and alone as I imagine he does, but the picture bothers me. Try as I might I can't seem to shut it out of my head.

"Did that start again after your wife left?" I don't want to mention her but I want to know that someone was there, that someone helped him. He shakes his head.

"No. It happened while she was there too."

There's something very bitter to his tone when he speaks about her. She did leave him, but I remind myself I don't know why. I wonder if she did something to him before that, how she left, why she left. I wonder if I'll feel brave enough to ask one day, or if he'll ever trust me enough to answer.

I look up at him and see his gaze fixed on me. My eyes flit down to the table; I'm never able to hold his gaze very long. It's too intense, too searching. I realise that I've laid my hand over his and wonder if he'll make any move to make me take it away. Instead he smiles, takes my hand and raises it to his lips before he lets it go and starts eating again, slowly. He won't look up at me, but I think that's more because he's deep in thought than anything else. I eat too, my whole breakfast which is unusual for me because I rarely eat anything this early in the morning, and probably more to do with the fact that I didn't eat yesterday than anything else.

"Would you like to see me tonight, Anastasia?" I'm impressed that he asks me rather than tells me he'll come over.

"I'd love to. Would you like to come here or would you prefer if I came to yours?"

"Since I just spent the night here I think I'd prefer it if you came to mine. Then I can make you breakfast and prove that I'm not completely useless."

"Hey, I never said you were completely useless. I might have thought it and wondered if you even knew what an oven looked like but those two are not the same thing as saying it out loud to you." He rolls his eyes and I grin. "But yes, I'd love to come over tonight. I have to meet Gemma and Erin for dinner because they're going home tomorrow but I'll come over straight after."

"Okay, have a nice time. Do you mind if I use your shower?"

"No, of course not. Use the one in the ensuite." He goes through to the bedroom and I clear up the dishes and load them in to the dishwasher. I go through to the bedroom and shut myself in the walk in wardrobe so I can get dressed. I put on a purple shirt and a black pencil skirt and leave my hair down. I walk back in to the bedroom to do my makeup and put on my jewellery. I'm surprised when the doorbell rings but I get up from my vanity and go to answer it.

"Sorry, do I know you?" I ask when I see a man standing there.

"No, I'm just here to deliver Mr Grey's suit." he replies. I resist the urge to roll my eyes. He couldn't have just gone home and changed? I suppose if you have the money and it saves time you may as well have someone deliver you a suit.

"I'll make sure he gets it." The man nods and hands me the bag that his suit is in and wishes me a pleasant morning before he heads off in the direction of the elevator. I shut my door and walk in to the bedroom and, hearing that the shower has stopped I knock on the bathroom door. Christian shouts for me to come in. Now, given that I'm holding his clothes there's no reason to be surprised, but I really didn't prepare for seeing him shirtless with only a towel wrapped around his waist. I will myself to say something instead of just staring at him, but it's not easy. He looks even better nearly naked than he normally does.

"One of your flying monkeys brought your suit over." I tell him and he smirks. I give him the suit and walk out. I turn around one last time though to make sure I have his gorgeous shirtless form memorised. That just makes him smirk even more and, completely unashamed, I walk out, wondering if he fucks as good as he looks.

I'm sure I won't have to wait long to find out.

I slip on my shoes before I walk through to the living room, picking up my newest book, The Professor by Charlotte Brontë and sitting on the sofa to read a few pages before work. Christian comes out of my room after about ten minutes, looking his usual suave, polished self in his suit. I fold my page over and put the book on the coffee table and stand up and walk over to him, standing only a little way away from him.

"You ready to go?" I ask him, and he nods and we walk out together. I lock up and walk to the elevator with him. As soon as the doors shut he takes my hand, not making a big show of doing so. I smile softly to myself. As we're about to reach the ground floor he kisses me, passionate but quick, and walks out ahead of me when it stops. I roll my eyes but can't help smiling to myself. He doesn't say goodbye, but then we are seeing each other in just over twelve hours, so I really don't expect him to do so. Admittedly though, I am very much looking forward to seeing him tonight.


	14. A Quick Message

A VERY QUICK MESSAGE

I am so sorry for abandoning you all! I feel terrible, but basically I've been in hospital since just before the Easter weekend sans laptop, not that I felt up to writing anyway. I'm fine now, back home and all better, but posting will still be pretty irregular being as I now have to catch up on all the work I missed at Uni and take all my exams. Fun times. At least I have all the chocolate I didn't eat over Easter to get me through it. Anyway, I promise I'll try and post in the next couple of days (I have like half a chapter written already so I just need to find a couple of hours to finish it), certainly a little over the weekend and everything should be back to normal by the end of next month (I know it seems like ages but the end is in sight!). I know from being a reader that it's super frustrating when someone posts really regularly and then just nothing so I apologise again.

You're all amazing, thank you so much for being patient with me and I hope I can rely on your continued readership!

Love, Rachel


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